Fighting Evil
by Chameleon2
Summary: Maria and Richter find a way to render Alucard human-but blessings are not always a blessing, and vampires don't like churches overly much.


FIGHTING EVIL

FIGHTING EVIL

Okay people, this is my first attempt at a fanfic. I have never played Castlevania and probably never will, so if I make things up in the most horrible way, mail me, bring it to me gently and I will try to correct my mistakes. 

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Fighting Evil

In five years Castlevania had been overgrown with moss. Small trees peeked out of cave-like openings, grass painted the bleak ground green. The castle did not look like it would ever rise again, but nature had taken the place of the evil power of Count Dracula, trying to raise an army of flora to beat the shadows.

'How cynical,' Maria thought while she climbed over the fallen rocks, 'that a place that has housed so much death can be so fertile.' Blood is the major fertilizer, Dracula had said while he dined amidst the soulless bodies of the men he had placed on stakes, and apparently he had been right. The ground was soaked with blood, and Maria would never have come back…. had Alucard not been here. Somewhere. She had never seen him after their last, cool goodbye at the graveyard, five years ago.

So many things had happened after that. She had married—and divorced within two years. Her husband could not live with her quick mind, her strong will, the fact that she was so much stronger than he thought a wife should be. She, on her part, had despised him because of his old-fashioned ideas and had threatened to leave him when he tried to lock her up in the house to break her will. No, marriage had not been a success, especially not since she could not forget Alucard.

Sometimes she would wake up in the middle of the night, arguing with him, trying to tell him he should not return to his coffin, that he had the right to live like everybody else, that he was HUMAN, and not a monster….but she always woke up, hands balled with frustration and fear against her throat, where the huge wolf had nipped her before changing into mist and blowing away. He just could not believe he was no danger to her and she could still feel anger when she thought about that day, when she had tried to convince him to come with her.

"You are a Dhampire, aren't you, not a vampire. You do not drink blood, you even wear a crucifix. Damn it, Alucard, you have killed Dracula! You are not an evil being!"

"I know I killed my father." He had replied quietly, watching her with those stormy tormented eyes. "And I know he was evil. But that doesn't make me human. Maria, I have tried to live as a human, many times, but I failed every single time. I cannot get away from Castlevania without losing myself, and I do not want to become what HE has become."

"You wouldn't!"

"I am his son. His heir." His lips curved into a cold smile. "I am to take care of my heritage, the blood as much as the remains of the castle."

"But there is no point in staying here."

"There is no point in leaving either. Where should I go? With you? You don't know me, Maria, no matter what you think. I am as different from your kind as my father was.

No, I will retreat when the sun sets." The girl—she HAD been a girl then—stamped her foot on the ground.

"I don't want you to leave! You CAN come with me and Richter, we'll find something to do about your tainted blood, we will.."

"I do not want to come." He sighed softly. "This battle has wearied me. I long to rest again and reflect on the things past.."

"You are a liar. Nobody would want to do such a thing."

"I DO, miss Renard!" he had growled, and the next moment he had been a wolf, throwing her down and showing his canines. She was never hurt, but he made his point clearly then. Alucard was not a man, and it would be better for the both of them if she forgot hem.

But she had not. Saving Dracula's son had become an obsession for her. Even when the bliss of marriage had stopped her from her quest, she had the Belmonts look for a way to change Alucard's inborn cursed blood, and when the marriage ended she took up the search herself again. And she had found something.

'Where is that damned tomb.' she thought irritably. The villagers had given her vague directions, but they were frightened, as always, and it was all wrong. She wished she had followed him, long ago, if not to stop him, than to know where he was now. A mound. A tomb with a stone on top. Well, stones galore, but no tomb at all, and it was getting dark as well. Maria considered herself a brave woman, but even she did not like ruined haunted castles in the dark. Her husband would have gotten a heart attack if he knew she was walking around in this graveyard.

Dumb villagers. Sometimes she just couldn't understand how they could be so stupid. Alucard had saved all their hides, but all they could think about was that he was a half- vampire and that they were supposed to hate him. Him, and everybody who was looking for him, like her. No wonder she could not find him.

"What are you doing here?" Startled, she spun around, heart throbbing in her throat. Two big hands steadied her as she tottered, and she hit at them, without making even a slightly difference.

"Let go of me!"

"But of course." She now recognized the voice, searched for the face, but it was hidden in shadows.

"Alucard? O God, you frightened me."

"What are you doing here. Do you not know it is dangerous to be here at night?"

"Yes, I know, of course, but I had to find you…I've been searching all afternoon but I couldn't find your tomb.."

"You are standing on top of it. I felt you presence right through the walls. I almost stabbed you." He moved his arm and she could see the flash of light on steel. "What ARE you doing here? I haven't felt any evil vibes that could signal the return of my father."

"It's nothing to do with Dracula this time. Alucard, I have found a way to make you human!"

Fighting Evil 2

They were sitting on top of Alucard's coffin in the middle of his tomb, Maria talking and explaining, the Dhampire listening. The restless light of torches played over his pale features and lit his hair like a halo. Maria thought he looked more like an angel than like a vampire, but then his father had been a charismatic man too, and look what he had done to the world. 

It was all a question of blessing, she told Alucard.

"You don't know how many books I have read, and in how many languages. Most of them are in Latin, but unfortunately they had nothing to do with men like you."

"I know. I could have spared you a lot of work; Mother and I studied a lot of 'holy books' when I was younger. In none of them stood anything I could use."

"No. Then Richter found a book written in German, and in that book we found exactly what I was looking for. It has been done before, the Blessing of vampires, not only by the church, but also by these Schattenjägers, templar knights, holy warriors. There's even a note about a Belmont once purifying a vampire woman who had saved him from a horrible death. You only have to be blessed on holy ground."

"I refuse to believe it is that simple. And besides, I cannot enter churches." Again that bitter almost-smile. "One of the few things I inherited from my father."

" It doesn't have to be a church; a chapel will do just as fine." Excitedly she drummed her fingers on her lap. "The Belmont estate has a chapel, it can be done right there. And if Richter has finished his studies we won't even need a priest! It can be done. Trust me." He looked at her, thinking. It was hard to believe her, but yet she was sitting here, and, as she had told him, she would not torment him with lies. On the other hand he had been betrayed by so many now, that one more should not surprise him. Humanity. How would it be to be human, not to fear the calling of the blood or the cruelty he had seen manifested in his father? How would it be to live without constantly having to keep himself in check, to LIVE his life, instead of dreaming it away in his coffin? Would that creature be anything like what he was now?

Maria licked her lips nervously as he unconsciously bit his lip in thought, and said: "You do not have to make your decision now, of course. I will be here for a couple of days more.."

"Have you come alone? All this way, just to tell me you thought you had a way to cure me?" He actually seemed baffled. Maria smiled. 

"Yes, Alucard, I did. You shouldn't make so much of it. I...like you, as you well know."

Yes, he knew. His dreams had been mainly about her, the last five years he had been asleep. And if she had the courage to come to him, how could he be less brave than she?

So he nodded his blonde head, took her hand and helped her off the coffin.

"You are right. I am in no position to refuse any help, let alone yours. 

I will accompany you back to the village, it is too dark to go alone, and this is no suitable place for a young woman as yourself."

"So you will come with me to the Belmont estate?"

"Yes." Alucard said, and held open the hidden door to his tomb for her to exit.

***

The sun had not yet shown her face when Alucard was already waiting at the road which had once led to Castlevania, huddled in his cloak against the cold. Maria had no idea how difficult it was to leave this place, the safety of his tomb after so many years of peace. Not much of a surprise that, as she wasn't a vampire. He chuckled wryly at his own cowardice. He should know better than to follow a girl who was more than 20 times younger than he, but here he was, waiting. And there she came, riding a beautiful chestnut horse, her corn-blonde hair streaming in the wind.

"Good morning!" Maria called, holding the reins and stopping in front of him. Curiously she looked him up and down. "Don't you have a horse?" He shook his head.

"I do not need one. I hope you don't mind if I change form?" Her mouth fell open with surprise. 'O God, he's coming as a werewolf. How can I speak with him in wolf form?' But she regained her senses quickly, smiled and said: "Of course, whatever you like. But you will have to become human again when we approach a city."

"Naturally." He crossed his arms in front of his chest, ducked his head and rolled as a wolf out of the blackness of his coat. She watched in fascination how he stretched his legs—but he WAS enormous in canine form, large enough to ride on—hushed her horse and galloped next to him, down the road.

It had taken her nine days to travel from the Belmont estate to Warakiya, by horse, only stopping when Shalot was tired and to sleep. Now it was different. Within a day she was used to Alucard's way of transport; she even enjoyed looking at him running. It was funny how the wolf had the same way of staring down his nose like his human form, and how he could be arrogant in such strange things as snarling.

In cities and towns he became human again, but only long enough to get her safely into an inn and join her in eating (though he ate very little due to his different metabolism, as he told her). He never rented a room for himself, saying he preferred to sleep outside. Maria wondered about this until she saw a big bat hanging upside down in the horse shed when she went to saddle her horse. My, but the man was nothing if not original. And she suspected he had a great sense of humor behind that beautiful frigid face of his; he only tried to keep it hidden. Well, that only made traveling with him more of a challenge; she was determined to shake him out of that bleak state of mind.

Maria found out that she had been lucky to make it to Warakiya in one piece; twice they saw people who had been robbed, and once a man tried to get a hold of her rains while they were traveling through a small, poor town. Of course Alucard made sure the man did not succeed in what he was doing, thankfully without killing him, but it scared her. She had not seen anything like it on her way up.

"Where people are poor, they use their knives instead of their brains," Alucard said with a shrug. "Do not let it bother you, it has been this way since I was small, and it will probably not change either. They are fools."

"But why are they so poor? They live in the middle of beautiful rich lands, why don't they plant potatoes. Or fruit, or vegetables?"

"These people live of the hunt," he replied, "they do not know what else to do. But game is decreasing, like everything does when you hunt it too long and too much, and now they have nothing left. Fools, as I said."

"Do you mean that they will just stay here and starve?" He nodded.

"Yes, until the animals return and they can make a living again." He looked up at the sky.

"It will be dark in a few hours. Do you want to stay in this village, or shall we move on for a while? I would rather take you to a better town with a proper inn, but if there is no one near.."

"Let me consult my map." Maria said. She pointed at a tiny fleck in the green that marked the Saradon woods. "This is where we are now. The next town, Ga.. Ganoria? what a stupid name, is… here. Well, it IS bigger than this dump, and it can't be more than three more miles. I believe we can make that, don't you? Shalot had a good rest this afternoon when we lunched and she is a healthy horse, so if you think it would be better to move on, we can do that." Alucard nodded. He was speaking more often than he used to, but exactly chatty he was definitely not. "Can you run another three miles?" He smiled slightly, with a touch of arrogance. 

"Of course I can." Maria laughed, suppressing the urge to reach out and ruffle his hair; sometimes he almost behaved like a teenager instead of a four hundred year old grown man. But maybe he WAS nothing more than a teenager. He WAS immortal, after all…..

As soon as they were out of the sight of the village, the Dhampire turned into a wolf again. Maria had spent a good deal of time watching him this way, and had observed that the colors of his clothes returned in the fur: he was black but for white 'socks' on his forepaws, a ring of white around his neck and a patch of moonbeam on the back of his head. She wondered how he did it, for no matter how large the wolf was, his human form had to be taller and heavier, while as a bat he was so small she could easily let him hang from her finger. 

"It's magic, Maria," he had said when she asked him, "not science. I cannot explain it. I doubt my father could, if you were to ask him. Just… magic. It comes with the blood, I suppose." The blood she would try to bless, when they would get home.

The path was narrow, muddy and beginning to fade with the light, but she trusted Alucard to warn her when things turned worse. Flashes of black could be seen between the trees; he preferred to walk on the grass, in the shadows so no one would see him. Alucard, how could you name your son Alucard? It was insane! No matter how smitten he was with that poor burned mother of his, she thought the woman had not been completely right in the head. Alucard! Preposterous.

Suddenly she heard a snap, immediately followed by a shrill shriek of pain.

"Alucard!?" Silence. "Alucard!!" she cried again. A soft sound that could be a moan echoed between the trees. "ALUCARD! Where are you? Are you all right? Answer me, please!" Silence. Maria dismounted quickly, took the reins in one hand and stepped off the road. Here under the trees it was much darker already; she could barely make out the shapes of bushes and other things ten feet away. "Alucard! Can you hear me? Where are you?"

"I am here." She spun to the right. The sound had been uncharacteristically weak.

"Where?" Silence. "WHERE? Damn it, where are you?"

"Here!" She walked towards the source of his voice, squinting. If she could only see better… The next time she called, he was closer, but why wasn't he coming towards her?

"Alucard?" But then she spotted him, and made a dash for him.

He was human again, half lying, half squatting on the ground, face hidden in a cloud of hair. There was blood all over his forearm, soaking the cuffs of his shirt and dripping on the moss. 

"Lord God, what's happened? What…"

"A trap." He chuckled bitterly with the irony of it. "A wolf trap. Apparently those villagers aren't as foolish as I thought they were. I cannot get it open." Maria kneeled next to him, examining his wrist. It was caught between the nasty iron jaws of the trap. Maybe broken, in any case twisted. And then all the blood! She swallowed, the only time she had seen someone bleed so badly an artery was hit, and the man had died of infection shortly after. "We have to get you out of there before you bleed to death." He turned to face her and she started at the bloodless sight of his features.

"I already tried. I can't do it by myself. You can try to help me, but if you hurt yourself…"

"For God's sake! Should I pull on this side?"

"Yes. I will try to lever it open. But please be careful. 

On three." She nodded nervously and he began: "One…two….now!" She pulled, he twisted, the trap opened slightly and he hauled out his hand, collapsing against the foot of the tree the thing was connected to. Maria could feel the rush of air as the jaws snapped shut not an inch from her fingers. 'God, that was close.' 

"Let me have a look at that." He merely looked at her, or maybe through her, he was so drained she wondered whether he was still conscious. Gently she took his arm, wincing at the blood that gushed over her hands. The artery HAD been severed, and most of the smaller veins as well. For a moment she didn't know what to do, then she unwound one of the silken ribbons from her hair and tied it around his bicep. "Can you give me your tie, please." Alucard fumbled with the knot, tugged at the cloth and handed it over. She wound it tightly around the horrible wound, but found it soon stained with wetness. "I believe you will have to see a doctor. This must be stitched." God, but he was so PALE. 

"I heal very fast." He said softly, eyes unfocused with pain. He shivered. Like hell, she thought.

"Can you run as a wolf? No, I didn't think so. Can you change into a bat, so you can perch upon my shoulder?"

"I will try."

"Wait. Your wound…. What about the bandage?"

"It will change with me. Don't worry, this is nothing compared to… well, whatever I once had." 'That may well be so,' Maria thought doubtfully as she saw him climb waveringly to his feet, 'but I've never seen you so damn weak before.' Within moments he was flapping his wings feebly on the ground though, and she hastily picked him up. He felt strangely cold for a mammal. She lifted him on her shoulder, where he took a firm grip on her hair, snuggling against her neck. 'I am carrying a vampire in my hair.' she thought, giggling hysterically. She stuffed her hand in her mouth to stifle it.

"Never mind me, Alucard. I'm still sane. Are you comfortable?" The bat squeaked. A few minutes later they were riding towards Ganoria. 

Fighting Evil 3

The last of the dusky light had disappeared when Maria entered Ganoria in full speed. Her neck and collar were stained red, and while the bat still had a death grip on her hair, she was very much afraid he would just fall off and get crushed under the hooves of her horse.

"Excuse me, sir! Where can I find a doctor?" The old man she had addressed looked her up and down suspiciously.

"A doctor? We don't have a doctor, missy. Doctor Verdin is the only one in this district, and he lives in Zswasca, by horse half a day north of here. Why are you.."

"Never mind." The woman interrupted him, "tell me where I can get any medical help at all. A midwife will do, or even a barber. Please!" The man spit on the ground. She wanted to kick his head in.

"A barber I can give you directions of. See that sign over there, near the inn—all those illuminated windows? Next to it lives old master Francis. He's a barber, knows something of wounds as well." He sniffed, spit again. "So he should, with all the ears he's cut off." But Maria had already turned Shalot, thanking him hastily before she dashed off again.

"Alucard." She carefully plucked the bat out of her hair. "Come, you've got to change back. We're in Ganoria." The tiny head lifted. She could feel his heart beating in her hand, very fast, but thankfully regularly. Alucard closed his eyes shut, then began to grow and manifested suddenly on his knees in front of her.

"Damn it." He muttered, reaching out for something to steady him. Transforming always made him tired, but now it was near impossible. Why wasn't he healing faster? Why hadn't he brought some artifact to give him strength? Stupid, stupid.

"Please don't faint on me, you're way too heavy for me to carry this way."

"I have no intentions of fainting." He snapped, but when he tried to get up he had to grab her shoulders to steady himself. Maria put her arm around his waist, ignored his faint protests and dragged him out of the shadows of the ally where she had hidden his change from the rest of the world.

"Now you let me do the talking. And please stop struggling! Dhampire or not, you're in no condition to scare people off." She knocked on the door, and again when the man did not open it immediately.

"You will get blood all over your dress…"

"Do you really think I care? Besides, I've got clean clothes in my saddlebags..Ah!

Good evening, my good man. I need you to have a look at my husband's arm, if you please." Francis goggled up at Alucard's waxen face. His eyes were large, bulging out of his face like a frog's. Maria prayed he had enough intelligence to know how to stitch a wound as grave as Alucard's without blocking the blood circulation completely.

"I…" he cleared his throat. "I was just dining…"

"Then you will have to stop doing so until you have finished helping him." she spoke sternly, and pushed him out of her way inside. The man followed sullenly, mumbling under his breath. The mumbling stopped as soon as she dropped two silver pieces on the table in his working room.

"Quickly, master Francis. You would not want him dying in your house, would you?" Inside she was screaming at the horrible little bastard. Why didn't he hurry up!

"What seems to be the problem?" Master Francis asked slowly, rummaging around in one of the cabinets. "A fracture? You are bleeding profusely, sir. You been involved in a fight?"

"It's none of your business." The Dhampire snarled. Somehow his authority worked a lot better than Maria's, for the little man jumped to collect his stuff. "I need to be stitched. Now. If you cannot do it then say so and stop sniveling!" He pulled up his sleeve to reveal his blood-soaked wrist, and master Francis whistled between his teeth. Maybe he would be more respectful if she slapped him. But the man placed a lot of needles and threads on the table, washed his hands and went over into medical mode. The froglike look left his eyes, he cracked his fingers loose, instructing Alucard to take off his cloak, and perhaps his shirt, oh, maybe the lady would like to wait in his living room?

"Don't be ridiculous." Maria said, staring Alucard down. "I've seen blood and naked men before. I've been married, for God's sake." Which got her a strange look from the barber. He plainly thought her a very strange lady. Shrugging, she helped Alucard out of his upper clothes, absently admiring his muscled pale back before she sat back to watch the barber stitch the man she had so lightly called husband.

He was shivering, she noticed, probably with shock and pain rather than the cold weather. The color of his skin was very fair, almost translucent in this harsh light. It had probably never seen the sun. A pity, she mused, he should show that lovely body more often. Strange how much smaller he seemed without his coat. Not quite so…imposing, anyway. In fact he was very slender, tall, broad at the shoulders but trimming down considerably at the waist. 

Master Frances tapped his knuckles on the table, coughing apologetically.

"Excuse me my lady, but could you hold the needle?" 

"I will…"

"Of course." She grabbed the needle out of Alucard's unsteady fingers. He glowered at her, then thought better of it when Francis dabbed at his wrist with an alcohol dripping piece of cloth. His lips thinned to a white line and he closed his eyes tightly shut; for one moment Maria thought he WAS going to faint, but he didn't.

"It's still bleeding, sir. I don't know if I can.."

"Just do it!"

"But an infection…"

"Just do it!"

"Sir, the vein is severed. I have to.." Alucard exploded.

"Just stitch the damned thing and SHUT UP!" There was nothing noble about him now. Shocked, the man took back his needle, checked the tourniquet on the Dhampire's upper arm and set to stitching.

***

The inn always had a room for people of high standards, even if they were bloody and eerily pale and did not seem to own anything but what they were wearing. Maria booked two rooms, glad her companion didn't try to sneak out into the shed. She did not think he had the strength to change one more time, not after Francis's attempts to bandage him.

"You keep shivering," she said as she accompanied him to his chamber, "are you so cold?"

"Yes." He answered curtly.

Damned, he hurt. That bloody little frog had messed him up so bad he could hardly stand, and he felt so icy and peculiar inside… Maria kept hovering. He wished she would leave--or maybe he didn't, it was all rather vague in his head. She radiated heat and some strange kind of light, but maybe that was just the lightreflection on her hair and his imagination.

He waited for her to open the door, standing in the hall, sleeping on his feet. The woman shook her head.

"Get some rest, if you can." she said, leading him inside. He nodded. Shed his cloak. Sat on the bed, clenching his jaws to keep his teeth from chattering. Cold. He had seldom felt so cold in his whole life, and he had lived longer than anybody he knew. She asked him if she could help getting off his boots. He did not answer, but she pulled them off anyway and went on with the rest of his clothes. He stopped her when she came to his pants, afraid he would do something he would regret later. Decency, he mumbled vaguely. She mentioned she had been married; the second time this evening. How could she have married, she was just a child. Or wasn't she? 

The bed sheets felt cold against his skin, but Maria covered him with blankets and rubbed his back until the shivers eased. 

"You need to eat something." she said.

"So do you." He tried to smile. "I am fine, Maria. Tomorrow I'll be embarrassed about my weakness now. My flesh is knitting together already. Have dinner, do as you like.." her hand reached out to touch his cheek and a flood of emotions surged in his body: heat, cold, desire and pain and longing and a deep, raving lust—the taste of blood filled his mouth and senses, but Maria uttered a high pitched exclamation of pain that brought him back to himself.

"Alucard..!" His right hand had a crushing grip on her slender wrist, the palm of her hand pressed against his mouth. Blood seeped from the two small holes his fangs had made in the fleshy part of her hand.

"Noo…" he moaned, even as his mind reveled in the blood._ I've bitten her BITTEN her how could I what is happening to me I WANT her get out leave me give me MORE of it… _Maria was watching him with those huge green eyes of her, cradling her injured hand against her breasts.

"You need it, don't you." Her voice was soft, understanding. He recoiled in horror.

"No.." he croaked, "No! I don't need anything! I don't want anything." Except her blood. He was aching for it, and it hurt more than his arm and his shame together. "I think you had better go before I do something I won't be able to make up."

"No." she just didn't get it. Her presence suddenly made his skin crawl, his heart ache. She was so beautiful, so innocent; he loved her for it and hated her at the same time. "You can not ignore what you are. I don't care, you didn't hurt me, and if you need the blood you should take it."

"I don't need the blood and surely not yours.

Please!" he cried when she touched his face with her warm, blooded fingers, "Please leave me alone. Please." Maria sighed sadly.

"As you wish. I will take some food with me on my way back up if you like." Alucard nodded in misery. He did not think he could eat anything at all. The room seemed even colder when she was gone.

***

_'Dear Alucard,' the Succubus said, 'have you already chosen which woman you will sacrifice?'_

_'What on earth do you mean?' she laughed a throaty laugh, caressing his shoulder with her wings. No spell or doppelgangers this time; she was there in her own voluptuous flesh, standing next to him in the middle of Warakiya._

_'I mean you have to choose. If you hesitate too long I will take matters in my own hands, but I cannot promise you will like that.'_

_'What women do you mean?' _

_'Why, Lisa and Maria of course. The most important women in your life, don't you agree?'_

_'Yes, but…'_

_'Choose now, Alucard.'_

_'I wish you wouldn't call me that.'_

_'They are lighting the pyre right now and you are fussing about your name? My, you are cold blooded, my dear."_

_'Pyre? Mother? But that cannot be, she died so long ago!' but now he heard the shouting of the crowd, smelled the smoke. 'Mother!' He began to run towards the fire where a small figure was bound against a stake. 'MOTHER!'_

_'Too late, Alucard Adrian Tepes!' the Succubus screeched, 'I made the choice for you!'_

_He did not listen. Hundreds of people stood between him and the pyre, they didn't try to stop him, but the mass slowed him down. 'Mother.' he sobbed, and someone pulled him in her arms. Moonbeam hair blew in his face, the smell of roses._

_'I am here, my darling. Don't be afraid.' Lisa smiled her lovely pink-mouthed smile, hugging him to her breast. 'They found another witch, a fierce creature of great power. We traded places. I am alive!"_

_'Alive?' A feeling of dread came over him. This wasn't like Lisa, not at all. She would have protected another woman with her life instead of letting her burn in her place. And a witch? Who was the other 'witch'? He pulled himself from his mother's embrace, walking slowly to the pyre where the woman hung dead in the middle of the flames. Even before he recognized the blonde hair and the young face, he knew it was Maria._

Alucard bolted upright in his bed. An empty wine mug fell on the floor with a dull clunk.

"No!" he gasped, still half asleep, "I never would have chosen her!" It took him some time to remember where he was and he tried to relax. Inns were safe. The Succubus was dead, like the other creatures of darkness. Maria was probably sleeping. Probably. She would not be angry if he checked on her, would she? Just to see she was all right. He wouldn't wake her, and the bloodlust had disappeared when he ate something, so that would be fine.

'Yes, a peek only.' He whispered to himself, rose, donned his cloak—the shirt was being cleaned by the wife of the innkeeper—and tiptoed to Maria's room. The stupid girl hadn't even locked her door.

Inside it was dark, not so dark as to make him stumble, but too dark to see anything clearly. Maria was a vague hump on the bed; he could not hear her breathing. Shuffling a little closer, he saw the pale oval of her face, half hidden by the loose curls. Her eyes were closed, long lashes dark against her cheek. Unblemished, thank God. Before he knew what he was doing he sat next to her, kissing her softly on the forehead. And of course she woke immediately.

"I…I'm sorry. I thought you were…I was…I wanted to see if you were all right." Alucard stuttered, feeling incredibly stupid. The woman had the decency to look stricken, although he was fairly sure she was only pretending.

"You startled me. Are you feeling better? Your skin is still cold."

"Better. Yes." Obviously his wits had sunk into the floor. She had to smile. His hands trembled in hers, unsure whether to stay there under her breasts or pulling away or move up. Finally.

"Alucard…"

"Call me Adrian."

"Adrian? Is that your real name?"

"Yes. I should.."

"Would you sleep with me?" His brows lifted.

"Sleep with you?"

"Yes, sleep with me. Just sleep, you understand, nothing more…yet. See, you're shivering again, and since you haven't warmed up at all…Don't misunderstand me, Alu-Adrian, I am not trying to force you to do anything you don't want, but…damned." Her face had grown bright red, even in the darkness of the room. "I were always better with animals. Maybe if you became a bat again." she finished lamely. Alucard laughed softly, eyes shining with mirth.

"You would squash me. I would love to share your bed, and your warmth, on one condition." His face grew serious again. "If something-anything it all happens, if I do something, sleeping or awake, that you don't want, stop me. I prefer you slapping me full in the face to hurting you." Her smile was radiant, and somehow triumphant. 

"Deal." The blanket was lifted invitingly. _Haven't the girls changed, these past centuries,_ he thought as he crawled next to her in the narrow bed. The sheer pleasure of her living warmth took his breath away. After some wriggling and giggling on Maria's part they were both settled; he stretched out and she curled around his body. 

"Sleep well," Maria whispered contently, snuggling closer.

"Good night," Alucard whispered back. Within moments she was sleeping. The Dhampire lay awake some time, thinking about ages long past, when Count Vlad Tepes's castle was a place of light and beauty, the Count himself an odd but loving father. When Lisa was still alive. There'd been great dancing parties, he remembered, and the women used to swarm around him, admiring his pale, androgynous features, hiding behind their fans without hiding considerable amounts of cleavage. Maria was totally different than those creatures; so much more alive and witty. Strange. She seemed to forget he had been asleep longer than he had lived among people and think that he knew everything. The world had changed! Women showed their legs—he smiled when he thought of his shocked surprise when he first saw Maria in that tiny skirt she used to wear during her search for Richter. Knights were gone, damsels in distress carried swords to defend themselves. Vampires were being killed by whip.

_And Dhampires will become human._ He pulled Maria a little bit closer to his chest and fell asleep.

Fighting Evil 4 (biology class)

Maria tried to stretch. It didn't work; she was held firmly against the warm lump in her mattress by a heavy weight on her back. 

"O, come on, Michael, let me go." she muttered sleepily, then opened her eyes quickly, suddenly remembering it wasn't her ex-husband holding her. Alucard was still sleeping, which surprised her a bit, as he normally rose before the sun came up. Maybe the blood- loss had affected him more than he wanted to admit. Well, at least he was warm now, and a good deal harder than the mattress, a lot lumpier as well, but pleasant to lie against anyway. His right arm lay protectively around her shoulders; the weight on her back that kept her immobile. She smiled. Sweet, proud, innocent Alucard. One could almost forget he was not human at all when one looked at him now. The tension had left his face, broadening his mouth and relaxing his brow so he seemed much younger. Much more like the young man that had kissed her forehead than the serious ageless being telling her to send him away if he would try such a natural thing as making love to her. She sighed. Poor Alucard. How horrible it must be to fear your own feelings.

Careful not to wake him, she wriggled out of his embrace, sneaked to the closet where her last clean dress hung, snatched it away and went to the bathroom to wash herself. When she came back, he was sitting in bed, looking a bit confused.

"Good morning!"

"Morning. I...I believe I must apologize to you. I did not mean to stay all night."

"I'm happy you did." She tried in vain to stifle a giggle. The man actually blushed.

"You are? But it's not... proper." Maria sighed again. Sitting next to him, she said: "Alucard, no, sorry, Adrian. Times change. People change. I meant it, when I told you I wanted to sleep with you. I wouldn't tell you to do such a thing if I did not mean it. You do not have to apologize for something I asked you to do myself. No, don't say you're sorry again. Don't be.

Now, how's your arm?"

"Much better, thank you." _O_, Maria winced, _I made him freeze up again. Damn, what did I do wrong?_ He pushed back the blankets, stood up. "I'll get dressed. Do you think my shirt is cleaned already?"  
"I'll have a look. I'll bring it to you." He nodded gratefully, looked at her with a hint of sadness, then walked soundlessly out of the room.

"Damn it," Maria said forcefully.

Breakfast began in silence. Both of them were deep in private thoughts, sometimes interrupted by fast glances at each other. At last, Maria tapped her fork on the table.

"Do you believe in God?" He did not seem surprised. Perhaps he'd been thinking about the same.

"No, I do not. I don't think a God would let a creature like me or my father exist. I do believe in faith, though. The faith in God is what makes churches holy, not the presence of God. The power of faith can kill Evil, because people believe in Goodness." The corners of his mouth trembled slightly. "It's the same with a headache, my mother used to say, if you believe strongly enough, it will disappear." Maria smiled.

"You must have loved her a great deal."

"I did. I still do. But not as much as my father; he absolutely adored her. Everything would have been different if she'd lived longer, died of age instead of burning at the stake."

"Was she the one who called you Alucard?"

"Yesss. She and the villagers" He pulled at the bandage. "She liked to remind me who and what my father was. I always said he was just a man, but even then I knew better. I wouldn't have been a shape-shifter if he'd been still an ordinary man when he married my mother. When she died, the last of his humanity died, even while her last wish was for him to live on and forget her. 'Don't hurt the poor, petty humans, dear, they're not worth the trouble'." His upper lip pulled up in an ugly snarl. "I wish _that_'d been her last words, and that he'd heard them. It would've saved so many so much pain." 

A slight shudder of fear ran through Maria's body; Alucard's light eyes were positively murderous at the moment. To distract him, she asked if he would like some more bread, which he declined gracefully. She arched her eyebrows.

"You didn't eat a thing." And suddenly worried, "You are all right, are you?"

"Of course I'm all right. I told you, my metabolism is different than yours. I don't need nearly as much food as you, except when I use a lot of my powers, that is."

"How do you mean?"

"You want to know?"

"I'd love to. Tell me everything." Something like a real smile parted his lips. It lit his somber face like a lamp and she couldn't help smiling back. God, he was gorgeous when he did that.

"Very well then. Let me see. When you eat something, it goes into your stomach, hustles around a bit and in the end the vitamins and chalk and everything your body can use is taken into the blood and the rest is waste, right?"

"Yes, something like that, I suppose."

"A lot of waste." The smile definitely had something impudent now. "In my case...no, let me start with ordinary vampires. When they stop eating ordinary food, a part of their body dies, because that part doesn't need to function anymore. Their bowels, liver, kidneys etc. They stop working because there is no waste. Blood can be absorbed completely..."

"But you don't live on blood."

"No, but I was born with the body of one who does. When I was a baby, it wasn't so bad, because milk was my only nourishment, but when I grew up, I had a lot of trouble until my body accepted fast food. Now, I'm probably the only one who can eat whatever I like without producing waste. My body uses everything. It all hustles and absorbs until everything in my stomach is digested, and I need to eat again. As I found out when I lay in my tomb, the need to consume any kind of nourishment stops completely if my body hibernates. It's like healing, and I guess my regenerative powers as well; the cells regenerate so fast I don't get older when I don't move about. Because I do age, if I'm not sleeping. It's just that I spent a lot of time doing nothing else. No, then the battle five years ago. I remember being famished all the time when I fought the castle to get to my father because I had to change all the time, or summon fire..

You see, changing takes an immense lot of energy, especially into mist. You have to let go of mass, just like when I become a bat, but you also have to let go of substance, and that is so difficult, you can't imagine."

"No, I don't think I can." Maria said, trying to close her mouth before a fly would fly in. He had never spoken so much at one time before.

"I don't perspire either." Alucard went on, really coming into it, "or just a little bit, and if I do, it's purely water, no salt. Which is very handy when you spend years in a coffin. I would've dehydrated in two weeks, if I did. To think of it, I don't think I have any visible pores at all. No. I do have pores, of course, but they're much smaller than yours. That's why bathing is unnecessary for me; dirt doesn't stick to my skin. Imagine it would, I would be one big fungus upon waking after ten years in my coffin."

Maria felt a little nauseous. She pushed her plate to the middle of the table.

"How do you know all this? Did you study biology?" Again he fumbled with the bandage. If it itched already it was healing very fast indeed.

"No, not me. But we had an ancient librarian who knew everything. I had quite a chat with him when I was young. He taught me how to read and write." The light eyes softened in memory. Suddenly Maria felt sorry, and she said so.

"Why? I am the one who destroyed the place, not you. And I doubt the librarian died in the ruin, he was too shrewd to die so easily. 

Have you finished? Shall we go then?"

"As you like," Maria said, and rose to saddle her horse.

************************************************************************

I guess I should rate this one for sex, but I never know how. PG-13? 14? Nobody cares anyway. 

Fighting Evil 5

No matter how fast his flesh knitted together, the damaged wrist-bones had not yet done so, and the black wolf limped heavily while he ran. The bandage could be seen in the color of his fur as a thin ring of white right above the slightly darker 'socks', as it had when he was a bat. It did not seem to hinder him much, though, he walked just as easily on three paws as on four.

In the next couple of days, Maria could feel the intimacy they had build up so far dissipate into cool friendliness, and she didn't have a clue why. It wasn't like she didn't encourage him, and she was positive he understood exactly what she was trying to do; he just shut curtains behind his eyes and kept silent. He was driving her insane! Did he love her, or even feel something for her, or not at all? He never treated her different than honorable, but she did not want nobility, she wanted the clear truth—and was too afraid to ask. He should, and would NOT think her a trollop or a flirt. She was a woman of high standards, he was a Count, they had to behave like that. But sometimes, sometimes, she wished he would get shot or injured in some way, only to have him at her mercy again. And then she would not let him get away so easily!

As it was, she rode and he ran or, when he was in pain or tired, he hung upside down from the collar of her cloak in bat-form; she slept in an inn and he in the shed or outside her window—without peeking, she was disgustedly sure. Conversation was a pleasant, meaningless thing she would just as well stop if she hadn't been afraid he would stop talking too, and she didn't want to miss that as well. Men. It was the role of a girl to play hard to get, not of the man. But why? What had she done wrong to change his manners so drastically? And why did she want him more than ever anyway?

She sat in bed, glancing out of the window at the sky. It promised to be yet another beautiful, cold autumn day. The sky was a very delicate hue of gray, lightly clouded, with the sun slowly rising in it as a flattened fiery circle, like a hot orange. Alucard's small, triangular body seemed black as it hung against the sky, almost depthless. As she was watching, his wings unfolded, he dropped, flapping profusely to break his fall before he disappeared into the dawn to change. Maria sighed. Another breakfast. Another day. She began to look forward to coming home.

***

"Adrian, can I ask you something?" The wolf pricked his ears up. "Would a pack of wolves accept you as one of them, would you stumble on them in this form?" He sighed visibly, obviously irritated, but became human within seconds and dusted himself off.

"No, Maria, I do not believe real wolves would accept me. I'm too big, and besides, my scent is wrong. Or rather, the lack of it. They wouldn't be able too identify me. Why do you want to know?"

"Just curious. I thought you'd be a good leader.. what do you mean by 'the lack of scent'?"

"I have no scent." Alucard replied. "I told you the day before yesterday; I don't perspire salt or scent, only water, so I have no smell of my own." He flashed her a smile. "Why do you think people are being surprised by vampires? Because you can't smell them, although you would think they'd stink of blood and death like corpses. We don't sweat. Dirt doesn't stick to our skins and we can move without sound. More like ghosts than the dead, actually."

"We?" Maria asked quietly. He arched his right eyebrow in a questioning way, then understood what she meant and dropped his gaze to the ground. 

'We vampires'. Again he felt a hint of the blood lust. 

"They." he corrected himself flatly, and tensed his muscles to change. When his paws hit the ground, the first thunderbolt lit the sky.

Lightning was soon followed by thunder, then by a cold, nasty drizzle and finally a drenching pour of rain. The day's first promise had obviously been a lie, Maria thought sourly. No town in sight, no tree to seek shelter under, a frightened horse and soaked clothes, God it was marvelous. Just marvelous.

Alucard had a face even darker than the sky; brows quivering to keep the water out of his eyes. He hated rain altogether, but running in it as a wolf was even worse than just walking in it as a human. He was mud from paw to flank, cold, wet, angry with everything and anybody, cursing himself and Maria and the weather in an ever ongoing series of low growls as he ran. His gloves and boots were water proof, but lost a lot of that function when he changed, which meant his hands and feet—paws, now—felt like ice and would probably look like that as well. Maybe he could fly.... But that was even worse, and exhausting as well. So he ran on, snarling angrily.

"Another mile, I think," Maria shouted over the roar of the thunder-and-rain, "before we come to Aranva. Can you go on for so long?" He barked, jumped over a puddle and landed quite painfully on his left front paw. _Damn it!_, the noble Count shouted, howling with frustration with his temporary incapability of speaking. He wanted to kill something! Something large and tasty, like a bull, just for the feeling of WINNING for a change. Maria's horse would do fine. And Maria...no. he wouldn't kill her. He would ravish her. Damn the woman with her daring way of baring her body like that! What did she think he was, a monk? Did she WANT to be taken? What the HELL did she think she was doing?! If he hadn't liked her so much, he would have ripped that low-cut dress from her lovely shoulders days ago, given her what she apparently wanted...but he couldn't. Not Maria. Not anybody. Not while he was still a Dhampire with cursed blood. Though he had to confess that it was so hard his whole body was taut, close to snapping with frustration.

Aranva looked like a painting someone had emptied a bucket of water over, all dripping and gray in the somber light.

"I hope it has an inn with a bath." Maria said. "I do look forward to a nice hot bath and a big mug of tea. And you." She looked at him and laughed. "God, you look even wetter that I. Rather like a drowned cat."

"Thank you for the complement." Alucard replied dryly, feeling far from dry and not amused at all. Mud from head to toe indeed. Then he saw she was shivering, and immediately his protective instincts kicked in. She must be wet and cold; her lips were bluish, quivering with the chattering of her teeth and her nose was an inelegant red. If she didn't watch out, she'd get ill, and he was not the kind of man that let women in his protection catch their death while he was there, so he swallowed his hurt pride and slapped the damp horse on the rear.

"I think that building over there is an inn, and by the look of it it's an expensive one, which means it very likely has bathing facilities. Let's get out of the rain, shall we?" She nodded, and followed him, murmuring something about not caring how much it cost and hot baths. 

They were lucky; there was one room left with a bathroom AND a hearth. Maria smiled pleased, and signed her name in the guest book. Then she looked at Alucard. The man was dripping muddy water on the rugs on the floor. Long hair pasted in heavy tangles against his face, bare hands red and fair skin flushed with cold—though he did not shiver now. He needed that bath as much as she did, dirt-proof skin or not. She sighed, how could she tell him to get his butt in a bath when he just came out of the rain?

"Would you like another room, then, sir?" the landlord asked again, eyeing the growing puddle in which the Dhampire stood. Before he could open his mouth, Maria answered for him: "No, he'll be with me for the time being. If he needs another room I will let you know. Now, I am in need of a large quantity of hot water, soap and towels. I expect my horse to be taken care of?" She didn't like the small grin he was trying to hide, not at all. She was a high born lady, he had no right to laugh at her. Angrily she pressed her flat bag of clean-and now damp-clothes against her bosom. She hoped their feet would leave permanent marks on the wooden stairs. The man did not deserve better.

Not much later they were standing in her beautiful, large, warm room, where a blazing fire burned in the hearth, casting its cozy light on the downy rug in front of it. An open door led to the bathroom, where several steaming buckets were just being emptied in a big tub by a chambermaid. Shortly thereafter the girl walked into the room, bobbed her head and said the bath could be used as soon as it had cooled down enough. Alucard thanked her, pushed a large piece of silver in her hand and sent her away. She went with a bright grin, looking back a couple of times, a happy light in her eyes.

"A silver piece? For a bath?" He shrugged, leaking water.

"She is pregnant. She'll need the money." he said. "And she reminded me of someone I used to know."

"O." Maria dropped her coat on a chair and made a gesture for him to do the same. "So you see pregnancy as well? Or did you smell it, somehow? Never mind.

I am going to take my bath. You are free to leave if you want, of course, but I would...I would like you to stay. And you have to get dry anyway, so..." he smiled faintly.

"I'll stay, if you like. Maybe I'll have a soak as well. If I dry up like this I'll have sand in my eyes whenever I flap my wings."

"Good." Maria said, and she meant it. She took her nightgown out of the saddlebag, took off her necklace, placed her shoes next to the hearth and disappeared into the bathroom, where she -thankfully- closed the door.

Alucard shed his cloak, waistcoat and boots as well and tried to sit in front of the fire without spoiling the rug. Here he was, waiting for his turn to get wet again. Well, at least it was better than Cousin Elizabeth's blood baths. Disgusting habit, that, especially the cleaning of the bath itself later. She was one of the few vampires who DID smell, a strange coppery tang he associated with death and misery. Naturally, everything cousin Elizabeth _did_ was causing death and misery. He even used to call her Lady Misery, just to irritate her, but after the threat that she would use his blood to bathe in he let it off and plainly ignored her. Unfortunately enough she was very hard, if not impossible, to ignore. Cousin Elizabeth liked to be admired almost as much as she liked spoiling other people's pleasure, and she took great care to make sure she was admired, one way or another. This could be by wearing dresses that left so much of her breasts bare, that you just had to look at them to make sure they were not hanging out of her bodice altogether. Or by doing her hair up in the most insane way with pounds of jewelry, leaving her lovely swan's neck exposed like the stem of a rose, thin and elegant, almost erotic in the way she showed it. A remarkable woman, too bad she'd been a bitch beyond believe.

His shirt was already drying, steam made the windows opaque. Memories, memories. Strange to think that was all past, forgotten by everybody but him. Would the Blessing render him mortal, he wondered. He did not think so, his body would probably stay unchanged, but what if it wouldn't? Would he die? Would he age suddenly? Would he go insane? Would he finally be able to make love to Maria without risking her having a cursed baby? 

He blushed, firmly pushing those thoughts away. Then the object of his reverie stepped amidst a cloud of steam out of the bath room, dressed in a long, white nightgown. Face flushed, hair a wet curly mass on her shoulders and small feet bare, she looked like a young girl. Lovely.

"Do you want me to ask the maid to fill the bath anew, or will you use the same water?"

"I'll use this, thank you. It's only to rinse the mud out of my hair." He stood, towering over her. "Are there any more towels?"

"Yes, two, on the left. There's a fire in there as well, so you can dry your clothes over there, if you wish." Now why would she smile so impishly? Shaking his head in wonder, he closed the door behind his back and began to undress. Unlike his skin, his clothes were still stiff with dried mud. He scrubbed them in the half-empty bucket in front of the fire, then hung them next to Maria's socks to dry and lowered himself in the tub. Images of babies and wombs popped up in his head and he smiled, thinking he would be the largest and muddiest baby that ever floated in a womb.

The water smelled of herbs and Maria's bath oil. So would he, when he came out. Well, that'd be something different for a change.

When he dried himself off, he looked into the tub and grinned at the dark water. He ought to be ashamed, but he wasn't; he felt wonderful. Bathing was definitely something he had to do more often, if only for the glowing of his skin. The shirt was as good as dry, and nicely warm, the pants were not, but he put them on anyway, for modesty. The only thing that irritated him now, was the heavy mass of half-dry hair that refused to cooperate at all, hopelessly tangled and fluffy with static energy. Maybe Maria had scissors, so he could cut it. 

She was sitting in front of the hearth, combing her hair like a mermaid on the shore.

"Clean already?" she patted the carpet. "Have a seat."

"Have you got any scissors?"

"Scissors? No, I don't think so... why?" He tried to comb his fingers through his locks and got stuck halfway his shoulder.

"It tangles." Maria was horrified.

"You're not talking about cutting...no, Adrian, you can't! It's so beautiful. Here, sit down, I'll brush it for you." He hesitated, and she snapped: "For God's sake, don't be so old-fashioned! I'm not asking you anything indecent."

"I'm not old-fashioned." He growled back, then checked himself and sat next to her, suddenly sad. "I'm living in another century." Maria bit her lip. She did not have the right to be angry with him because of his upbringing. 

"I'm sorry." She said, gently turning him around so that she faced his back, "I shouldn't have snapped at you. Now, sit still, tell me if I pull too hard." 

Her thoughts drifted away as she was untangling, to her childhood, to Michael, to Richter, to Annette. She'd believed she loved Michael, or maybe she had really loved him when she married him. He was a tall, slender man, fair of complexion, with short blonde hair and a small mustache. Annette was delighted with Maria's choice; it would be good for her wild young sister to stop her mooning after that highly unsuitable vampire-kin and settle down in marriage. Annette was always sensible, so sensible sometimes Maria wanted to scream for a bit of folly. How could Richter with his broad grin and his sharp sense of humour put up with such a serious woman? Before she'd met Alucard, Maria had loved her brother in law about as much as her sister, maybe more, but the man had never looked at her twice, only as a child, never as a woman. Of course, Annette was beautiful. Nobody else had such a fine skin, such beautiful golden hair, such deep, dark green eyes. It was a miracle Annette had never grown arrogant with so much beauty, but she was to perfect and sensible to be arrogant. It was horrible! 

Alucard winced, turned around a bit. 

"Are you angry?" he asked pleasantly. 

"What?" then she saw she had pulled out at least ten hairs with her last irritated stroke, "O, I am sorry! No, I was thinking about my sister. You never met her, did you?" he shook his head, smiling amusedly.

"No, I never had the honor. Is she a woman that makes you pull out your hair in despair?" Maria laughed out loud.

"O heavens, no! It's just that...she is so...beautiful. Very hard to...well, to compete with. She is better in everything than I am. I know I shouldn't be jealous, but sometimes..."

"She can't be more beautiful than you are, and certainly not as brave." Alucard said seriously. She blushed at the compliment and hurried on with the comb. By the fire light his mane shone like the moon; a cape of pale silk. She chuckled as she thought about what the man would say if she told him how she saw him. He'd probably think her an idiot.

"You have lovely hair," Maria remarked, changing the subject. "I used to remember you as I saw you on that last day, five years ago, when you were standing amidst the ruins. When I called you, you started and spun around, and all that hair wove around you with that movement. It was so dramatic! I wanted to let my hair grow, only to be able to sweep with it like you did that day." She sighed. "Unfortunately, I have curls and it was hell to comb it out every morning; before it hung halfway my waist, I cut it off in a rage of fury. Dramatic enough, but not in the way I wanted it to be." Alucard laughed quietly.

"Do you know why I let it grow? Because it was too much of a bother to wake and cut it off every time. When I woke after that incredibly long sleep when Richter disappeared, I had to fight to find my way out of a mountain of hair. What I have now is NOTHING compared to that."

"You didn't wear it long when you were young? I thought people in your age all had long hair."

"No, not at all. It's very uncomfortable when you wear a helmet, so knights were mostly short cut. Counts, Lords and other people who did not have helmets did wear it long, but when I was small I looked like a girl if I had long hair, so I had it short as well."

"You? Look like a girl?" but she could imagine why, with that smooth face and finely chiseled features. Even now, full grown, he had that androgynous appearance she found appealing but others would find effeminate. "But I like it, and I think you're manly enough to shut up anybody who thinks different." This time he laughed out loud, which gave her the courage to part his hair in three and weave it into a thick braid. It had been one of her silly dreams to do ever since she'd met him and it gave her great satisfaction to do it now.

"There. Combed, braided, almost dry." 

Her throat suddenly went dry as well. This was the first time they were so close together since that morning three days ago, and without tension or confusion. She could actually touch him. Her fingers trembled when she did, a light, subtle caress on his shoulder.

"Your shirt is still damp." She murmured, pushing it up so the lower half of his back was exposed. It gleamed whitely in the light. Rather like wax. No visible pores. Alucard had gone rigid, but he did not protest and the opportunity was too good to let it pass; she reached out, heart beating like mad in her chest, and softly grazed his skin with the tops of her fingers.

_God,_ Alucard shrieked inside even as he arched into the caress that seemed to go straight to his groin,_ what is she doing now? I've got to stop her before I loose control!_ But it felt so good to be touched and he'd wanted her so much for so long he knew it was way too late to scramble back. He made one desperate attempt to regain his senses, but his whole body was pulsing with need and her hands only made it worse. 

"Stop it." He whispered hoarsely, trying to pull back and being betrayed by his own body, "I can't... what are you doing.. you have to stop.. " She stopped one moment, then her hands slid under his shirt around his body, came to rest on his stomach. He literally jumped at that. He was so aroused it hurt, furious, half mad with pure lust and the woman was _teasing_ him!

"Stop it!" he roared, and pushed her to the ground, hands flat, harmless, away from his sensitive flesh. "You're driving me crazy! I may not be human but I'm just a man and you make me crazy!"

"Good!" she shouted back. The woman was insane! Rage made his sight blurry. Maria could feel his arms quiver with anger and she quickly added: "Nice you return the favor." Very slowly the fury bled out of his eyes.

"What do you mean." He demanded, but she looked at her trapped hands and refused to answer until he hesitatingly freed them.

"I mean," she said, "that I love you. We've been dancing around each other for days, no, for years now, and I have been waiting so long for confirmation I began to doubt you felt anything for me at all..." A shy smile curved her lips as she glanced at his obvious 'distress' as Annette would have called it. "Apparently you do."

Alucard moaned aloud.

"Yes. Yes, I do. I love you, and I want you, but I don't want to curse.."

"You do, don't you? Adrian, I don't care about your family or your curse. I do not think I can make it any clearer to you, but if I must, I'll spell it out for you: I love you." She placed her hands on his chest where his shirt had fallen open, "and if I look like a whore in your in your eyes, it's a shame, but I.." The rest of her words were smothered under Alucard's mouth as he kissed her savagely, too aroused to wait patiently for her to finish.

"Shut up." he grumbled as he pushed her down again, "do what you want but please shut up."

There followed a frenzy of ripping off each others clothes, the question whether the bed wouldn't be more suitable and the instant denial. The rug would do perfectly. In fact it was already doing perfectly, Maria noticed as she tried to gasp for air. All thoughts of a shy, cool, celibate man were blown into little pieces. He delved into her mouth like he wanted to bring out her tongue by the root, hands roamed over her body to caress every sensitive spot she had until she was literally begging him to get on with it, to stop torturing her with this avalanche of passion.

_It has been so long!_ Alucard thought hazily, nipping at her lower lip, cupping one breast in his right hand and leaning his weight on his left,_ so long! I don't want to hurt her, but I can't stop anymore._ But that wasn't a problem, really. Maria was almost throttling him in her need to get him inside, so the chance of hurting her was relatively small. At least, he thought so, until his wrist gave out and he collapsed on top of her with a yelp of pain.

"Damn!" Maria swore, pushing his heavy bulk to the side, "Have you hurt yourself? Can you go on? Roll over, then."

And love went on with Maria on top. They made love in a rushed but easy way, trying to stretch each moment but unable to slow down.

**_Heaven..._** Maria cried as the shudders took over her body and she looked down on Alucard's bared throat as he arched his back in ecstasy, then there was an instant of nothingness... and she came down again, panting most unladylike.

The body under hers was still thrumming with its heartbeat, warm, thoroughly relaxed. Alucard's arms circled her waist and he lifted his face up to her.

"Thank you." he said, and a huge, slow, satisfied smile spread over his face. It was the most beautiful smile she had ever seen.

"Yes." she mouthed, grinning as well, "I guess you're welcome." And she covered that wonderful mouth with kisses.

Fighting Evil 6

_The woman was sleeping, her body soft and warm against his own. Her hair was red, the colour of flames, her skin was the pure white of ivory. A beautiful woman. A gift, or maybe a leftover, from his father._

_'A boy of your age,' the Count had said, 'is supposed to know how to please a woman. You are an adult now, Alucard. Behave like one for a change.' Well, as long as it didn't include drinking other people's blood, he had no reason to disobey his father's wishes, and because loving a woman had been one of his own for quite a long time, he had done what he was expected to do._

_Her name was Sylvia, but he liked to call her Flame, and that always made her smile. He found it very pleasurable to have a pet-love who did everything he desired, whenever he desired it. Sex was only one thing; he had been lonely these last years of his adolescence because of the strange whims of his father. Learning to change his body into mist had replaced friends of his own age for a great deal, but still he felt the loss. Until Flame had filled the empty space with her lovely body and her wide, sweet mouth and made him forget his loneliness. _

_At the ridiculous balls in the eerily large ballroom he danced with her, when he was moody she made him laugh, when he was miserable she loved him. She was a peasant's daughter, but he was determined to marry her and leave Transylvania to go and live in the west, far away from Vlad Tepes and Castlevania._

_Of course the Count laughed at that._

_'You want to live among the sheep? How are you planning to live? You can't do anything. You've never learned to use your own hands." He shook his head, amused, maybe a little proud as well. 'Feel free to try, though. I don't think you'll be able to survive for a very long time on your own, but yes, do try. Be a man.'_

_So he left. Not as far away as he could wish, but several miles from his home in a small village called Toncqs. The Count had given him a little money to start with, to buy a house to his liking, and Flame and he settled in a nice little cottage surrounded by pine trees._

_Blending in was difficult, but he did, because Flame liked to have visitors. He himself always felt awkward with other people. What if they found out he was not entirely human? What would they do?_

_Sylvia tried to kiss his fears away, but they kept following him into his dreams, grew out to nightmares from which he woke screaming. He dreamed about being burned or crucified, hunted like an animal or buried alive. The worst however, was the dream in which the raving mob forced Flame out of the house and tore her apart in front of his eyes before it crashed down on him._

_He never told her about the dreams, although she kept asking. Be a man, his father had said, so he would be a man, and men did not moan about dreams._

_They went to parties. They held parties. Intelligent young men talked about interesting topics and discussed their ideas with him; he loved it. Flame bloomed like a fresh rose, he loved her. Life was hard but livable, until winter came._

_At first he liked the snow, and he played in it like a child with the others. Then the cold began to creep into his flesh, refused to get out no matter how close he sat to the fire, and he lost his appetite, his enthusiasm. _

_One day Sylvia asked him to accompany her to one of her friends. He shook his head._

_'N-no, I'd rather not, if you don't mind.' _

_'Of course I don't.' She hesitated, then kneeled in front of him. 'Are you all right, Adrian? You look so pale.'_

_'I don't know.' He placed his hands on his belly. 'I feel sick, so empty inside. It's nothing, I'm sure. You shouldn't worry.'_

_'But I do!' she gently stroked his cheek, 'But you are freezing! You are ill!'_

_'Now don't be..'_

_'How can you be so cold when it's so hot in here?' Resolutely she threw away her mittens. 'Come, let's get you into bed. Please, Adrian, if only for my peace of mind.' Within moments he was lying in bed, her naked body curled around his. Warmth finally began to seep through, but the emptiness was still there. Waiting. Growing. Her life pulsed against his hart; he hungered for it. He tried to suppress it, replace it with passion, but love left him colder than ever and he sobbed with the pain as it spread through his body. He wanted her, more than he had her now, and he took her! She screamed when her glorious heat bled out of her, but the taste of blood was so powerful he did not even hear her. The blood_

ran down his chin as he pulled away from Maria's still form. For a moment he could only gasp for breath while he tried to separate dream from reality. Flame's corpse, cold and bloodless. Maria! There were tiny holes in her neck under her jaw, where the large vein was visible under the skin. A trickle of blood flowed from those wounds, which were already healing. The saliva of vampires healed small wounds like these, but blood also flowed slower when the heart stopped working...

His hands trembled as he felt for a pulse. At least she was still warm.. yes, there was a strong, regular pulse. He had not killed her. Not yet.

She stirred, blinking sleepily.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I had a dream. Go back to sleep." The relief must have shown in his face, for she frowned, sat up. He took her in his arms and hugged her. "I love you," he said, forcing the last of the blood lust back down where it came from. "Let's get into the bed, before you ruin your back." Without waiting for her answer, he lifted her and placed her on the mattress. Physically, she resembled Sylvia a lot; small round breasts, long legs, thin waist. Warm. She made him feel sick.

"I'll be back shortly." He tried to smile, but he was so cold inside, so cold...

"I thought I heard your horse whinny. I'll be back as soon as I've checked on her." With that he fled from the room, changing into a bat as soon as the door closed. The blood lust was roaring in his ears; he needed blood desperately, it had never been so bad before. No humans. Never again. The horse!

Hastily he flew to the stable. One of the windows was big enough to enter, and he did so. The interior smelled of hay and the maddening scent of living blood. The bay did not even feel his bite; it chewed on, unhindered. Thick, warm fluid hit the back of his throat. He gulped it down, revelling in the taste of it—and just as suddenly as it had risen, the blood lust disappeared again. Blood became blood again. Alucard fell into a heap on the floor, changed and was horribly, terribly ill.

***

Maria did not remember falling asleep again, but apparently she had, for when she woke it was pitch dark outside. Apart from her, the bed was empty. 

"Adrian?" A rustle by the hearth made her turn her head. He was sitting, fully clothed, knees pulled up and arms locked around them, in front of the fire. A picture of badly hidden misery. "What's wrong? Are you ill?"

"No. We must talk, though." _O god,_ Maria thought,_ I don't like this._ He went on calmly: "I ordered tea and toast, as you wanted to do before things got out of hand."_ Out of hand?!_ A smirk broke through the clouds on his face as he continued: "I ordered it about ten minutes ago. You'd better get dressed if you want to keep your dignity." She stared at him in horror.

"They'll be coming in?!"

"Well, I think they will, yes." The smirk became a smile. The misery was gone like it never had been there.

"You," Maria spit out, jumping to her rumpled nightgown, "are the most horrible man I have ever known."

"I think I hear footsteps on the stairs." Alucard stated pleasantly. She shrieked and made a dash for the bathroom. The horrible man was laughing at her! How could he! But she must admit he had a delightful laugh.

The tea was brought in, probably by the same woman he had said was pregnant. Again she wondered how he knew; she hadn't noticed, and she knew an expecting woman when she saw one. Maybe he DID smell her condition. The door clicked close again, and she peeked into the room.

"Yes, she's gone. You can come in now."

"Thank you for your concern about my dignity." she said down her upturned nose. Alucard smiled faintly.

"Sit down, Maria." She sat down on the famous rug, facing him. "Have something to eat, you must be hungry."

"What is this, the final meal?" Nevertheless she buttered a piece of toast, and covered it with jam. She was hungry indeed. "Are you leaving me?" Both his eyebrows shot up into his bangs—the braid was rather untidy now.

"No. Why?" she took a bite and waved her free hand: "Never mind. You're so grave, that's all. I was afraid you'd had enough of me, now you've had me, and..."

"I would never do such a thing!" he protested sharply, "I am not an abuser!"

"I know." she assured him. "Tell me what's troubling you." He kept silent for another minute, absently stirring his tea with a fork. Then he began: "Are you sure the Blessing will work?" It was the last question she had expected, and it took her completely by surprise.

"The blessing? I.. yes, I think it'll work. I wouldn't have come to get you if I thought it wouldn't work. But why, you're doing fine, aren't you?"

"I bit you." She hastily swallowed the last piece of her toast before she choked on it.

"That was nothing! An accident, not your fault. And you didn't hurt me at all."

"Again, when you slept." Alucard went on quietly. He stuck out his hand and touched her neck. She felt a pinch of pain. "There. I can't help it, but I'm very much afraid I'll seriously injure you. No, listen to me. I have been through this before, with another woman I loved, such a long time ago I'd almost forgotten. I swore I wouldn't hurt her, but I did, and when she died I..." he shook his head, a look of pain in his eyes. Strangely enough, all Maria felt was a stab of unreasonable jealousy. _For God's sake, the man has the right to love other women! This one probably died when my great-grandfather was a drooling infant!_ Fear was the one thing she did not feel, and she said so.

"Then you are a fool." Alucard snapped. "Vampires are bad enough, but at least they do only what you expect them to do. If I can't trust myself, how can you trust me? Until now, you've been lucky, next time you probably won't be. I am dangerous, Maria. And if there is no chance for me to conquer this, I would rather dig myself another tomb than stay with you and risk your life!" Maria felt a flash of panic.

"No!! You can't go back! You're doing great! You won't harm me, I know. I love you, and you said..." 

"I do. But it'd be better for the both of us if I left now, while I still can..."

She had forgotten to do up the top buttons of her gown, he noticed all of a sudden.

"...while I still can leave..."

Her mouth opened a little, showing small, even teeth behind her lips.

"....without tearing..."

Her lips tasted of strawberry-jam. With a start he became aware he couldn't speak further because he was kissing her.

"Tearing what?" Maria asked huskily, "your clothes?" She was not exactly helping. With a sigh he undid the rest of the buttons as well, pulling her close.

"No, my heart."

"Oh." She let her hands wander up under his shirt to the tiny hard nubs of his nipples, and squeezed gently. "Your braid's hanging in your tea."

"I couldn't... care.. less." he gasped, most unCountlike, and fell flat on his back when Maria pushed. She smiled devilishly. 

"My," she teased, rubbing softly until he was purring like a big cat, "ticklish, aren't we?"

The tea was very cold when they were finally ready to drink it. Fortunately their thoughts were elsewhere; nobody cared.

"I think I failed to make my point." Alucard sighed sadly. Maria grinned from ear to ear.

"Yes, thank goodness. You could try again, though. This way I find all your weak spots in a very pleasurable manner." Suddenly she was serious again.

"Don't worry, Adrian. Everything will be all right. As long as you can keep yourself from killing me, it will be fine. And I am positive you can do that."

"I hope so." He said softly, thinking about Flame. "I truly hope so."

Fighting Evil 7

Maria Renard and Adrian Tepes spent the next two days in the large hotel-room they'd rented, listening to the storm outside and making love in front of the hearth. In the end they didn't even bother to clothe themselves anymore. Just as well, Maria contemplated, as all her dresses badly needed washing, not to mention Alucard's mud-stained shirt.

The Dhampire was thawing out completely. He DID have a sense of humour, hidden deep under years of unconsciousness, and she spent many hours trying to make him laugh. Somehow that was easier when he was naked; then the level of sophistication wasn't so high. Or maybe his clothes made him colder. It did seem that way, she almost didn't recognise him as he was now, so relaxed and light-hearted. It frightened her a bit, and so did her own feelings. She'd known she was in love with him. Now she was loving him, no more and no less; in fact, she couldn't imagine living without him anymore. Two days, but she was afraid she would never be the same again.

As for Alucard, he had pushed his gloomy thoughts down so deep they could not possibly creep up again, and focussed completely on more important things—like eyes and mouth and breasts and soft warm skin, large quantities of soft, warm, naked skin, all belonging to Maria, of course. She was easy to focus on. But then his thoughts could not please him, and Maria definitely could. After so many years of total social isolation each touch sent him into thrills of delight, whether that was the intention or not. He was very much afraid he was what he always had thought only rabbits and whores could be: insatiable. Thank God Maria seemed to feel the same.

As the storm blew over though, the calm he had forced into his mind gradually began to disappear. What if he got her pregnant? What if she was going to give birth to a cursed bastard like him? He had to stop this affair until he was Blessed, he had to! But he couldn't. He was so perversely in love with the woman he ached for her even when he was with her, body and soul, mind and heart. Flame had never been such an obsession, and he would have died for her. Maria, he slowly began to understand, _was_ his life.

***

"Tell me again," Maria said, lazily stroking his chest, "how this changing-thing works."

"I told you before, I don't know. It has something to do with..."

"Magic, yes, you told me. Do you have to wear clothes to change?"

"No, I don't. It's easier if I do, but it's not necessary. You see, if I am clothed, I can form fur out of that, if I'm naked I have to use my own hair. So in my case it _is _necessary to wear clothes after all."

"What do you mean?" Alucard smiled. He held up a pluck of wheat-pale hair.

"Have you ever seen a blonde wolf?"

"No! O, great, you'll be blond as a wolf too? Of course. But that's wonderful! Can't you change now?"

"Now?!" She batted her eyes at him.

"Please? I've never seen a white wolf before. Please?" He shook his head, laughing.

"All right then. But promise me you won't laugh." Maria wondered why she would want to laugh at him when he changed, and she still did when he was standing in front of her on the bed. He was beautiful; a canine creature made of starlight, with pale golden eyes and a soft, silky pelt. _My lover the vampire_, she thought, and on an impulse took his head between her hands to kiss him on top of his nose. He did not lick her, but changed again and kissed her back.

"You're wonderful." she said sincerely, "and I love you. No matter what you are or how you look, nothing can change that."

"Thank you." he replied. He kissed her again for good measure. Then he felt like doing more than kissing and set himself to that with great enthusiasm. Tomorrow they would have to go. Today was the last chance to ignore the rest of the world.

***

The rest of the journey was without further problems. Alucard still ran, and Maria rode Shalot. At night, they slept together unless Alucard felt the biting cold of the blood lust in his mid-section. Thankfully, that did not happen very often. He wore his hair plaited all the time now, not out of romantic feelings, but because it was so much easier. And maybe, just a little, because he liked to be combed and braided.

The closer they came to the Belmont estate, the more nervous he felt. Would it hurt very badly? Would Richter succeed? Would he scream, and lose his dignity? Maria tried to reassure him, but she understood him so well, and was in fact very frightened herself. She knew the Blessing would be agony for him. She also knew there was no other way. There was no chance of marriage while he was still a Dhampire, feelings or no.

First things first though, as a famous philosopher had once said. For now it was enough to dread Annette's reaction on his coming into the house. Women with children in their care could behave like lions. 

*

When Richter returned from Castlevania five years earlier, a little shaken but still her own, darling husband, Annette had shed her gloves and donned her nails. He was not, she had told him firmly when they were getting ready for bed, to go vampire hunting ever again. No, she did not care about his profession, he could change that. And no, she did not care about the poor, endangered people in Warakiya. She did NOT want to live the rest of her life a widow. She cared about him and his health, and about children. Yes, he had heard that right indeed. So, he could choose, a family or his not-paying career, and if he chose for family, she would like to work on that right now. It was not a very difficult choice; Vlad was dead anyway, Alucard had taken care of that, and he wanted to have children very much. Besides, the way Annette looked at him was more threatening than the Count had ever been; he decided to stay for good, lay down the whip, study for Priest and become a father.

When Maria entered the matrimonial state, Annette was round and shining like the sun, and one month later she gave birth to a beautiful little boy of six pounds and three ounces. The boy was baptised Christian Simon Belmont, which somehow changed into Riff as the years went by, learned to walk and talk under the supervision of his loving father and was a healthy three-year-old by the time Alucard and Maria stopped in sight of the house and lands of the Belmont estate.

"This is it." Maria said, leaning to one side so she could look the wolf in the eye. "The Belmont-dome. Isn't it lovely?" The wolf nodded gravely. "I think it'd be better if you became human now, Adrian. They don't know we're coming, and your appearance might scare the living daylights out of them." She laughed softly, but in her mind she could see a picture of terrified servants running straight to the nearest church, screaming for holy water, fire and guns to kill the werewolf, and suddenly she felt cold. "Or maybe it would be best if you waited somewhere near until I can introduce you properly. I don't want you to get hurt because of bad timing." He flexed his ears in agreement. Normally, he would have changed back immediately, but now he seemed to hesitate. Maria noticed his tail was held low, the pointed ears flat against his scull._ He is frightened! O Maria, you ARE stupid! The man's walking into the hands of the man who has killed his father once, whose power can destroy him and whose wife'll probably screech for his blood—and you're pointing out nicely he could be killed by something else as well! Of course he's frightened!_ Quickly she dismounted, dropped in front of him on her knees and hugged him fiercely. "Don't be afraid. I won't let anybody harm you. Anybody." At that, his ears perked up again, quivering slightly; abruptly he changed, pushed his head against her shoulder and began to howl with laughter. _God, he's lost it._ she thought.But that couldn't be, could it?

"O, Maria," Alucard hiccupped, wiping the tears from his face, "You're so sweet. So very sweet indeed."

"Oh?" The irritation in her voice made his lips quirk.

"I will hand myself over to someone who's been killing my kin for years to burn the blood out of me, and you want to PROTECT me? I have been wondering for days now whether I'm not a crazy masochist, doing this for you, and you want to stop..."

"For me?" Her eyes widened with confusion. "What do you mean, for me? You wanted to be healed, didn't you, what have I got to do with that?" His face grew serious again, but a tender smile curved his thin lips as he said: "Maria, it has _always_ been for you. You are the reason why I want to become human. The only reason." 

*

"Look, my darling, the mistletoe's showing her jewellery. Do you see all the red berries?"

Riff, not interested in plants, squirmed in her arms. "Do you see them?"

"Yes. Down, mommy." She lowered him on the ground, ruffled his curls. The boy skilfully dodged and went off in a sprint down the lane. He was of an age that the energy sparked off of him, running around all day and eating more than one would think possible for such a small person. Richter said he had been just like that when he was a child. She smiled, a bit ruefully. However much he tried, it was clear Richter was tired of doing nothing but studying and family life. The man thrived on adventure, loved danger and apparently ached for some kind of evil power he could protect his family from. Sometimes she could find him in the chapel with his whip on his knees and one of his strange books in his hands, murmuring the words aloud. Words like a summons. 

"You are not trying to summon your ancestors, are you?" she had once asked, but he had closed the book, embraced her and denied he was doing anything of a kind. Something was going on, though, and she suspected it had something to do with Maria's disappearance, one month ago. Nothing serious, Richter said, but why didn't he tell her, then?

She pulled her cape a little tighter around her shoulders. Almost winter again. Maybe Christmas would settle things down. Yes, Christmas, a nice party with people she liked, mistletoe and hot chocolate. Dull, to a lot of people's mind, but not to her own. After Dracula's castle, all she wanted was peace and quiet. She only wished Richter could understand that.

The excited shrieks of her offspring pulled her out of her reverie.

"Mommy! Mommy come quickly!" Excited, not scared. Nevertheless she hurried into the direction from where she could hear him. Children would find snakes exciting, after all. But it wasn't a snake.

"Hello, sis!" Maria called cheerfully. Annette stopped, surprised. Then a big smile lit her face and she ran to her baby-sister in a whirl of skirts.

"Maria! Where have you been! You look good, do come in! You must be cold—do you want to eat something? Tea? Richter will be so glad to see you—but your hands are ice, darling, come inside." Within seconds, Maria was hustled into the living room, propped up against pillows, teaed and cookied, hugged and kissed. Richter was called down from his study and he kissed her cheek with an innocent: "How was your trip?" She glanced at Annette. He shook his head. She shrugged, said: "I have found him. He's waiting outside, near the old pine tree."

"Who is?" Annette asked warily. "What.... Where did you go, Maria? Who did you find?" Maria set down her teacup.

"I've been to Transylvania, to Warakiya. Looking for Alucard. Now don't look so horrified, he's a very nice man.."

"He's a vampire!"

"No he isn't! He is NOT a vampire! He's nothing like his father, nothing at all. Ann, he loves me, and I love him, and when he's Blessed, we'll..."

"Annette, dearest," Richter interrupted his sister-in-law, "Alucard is a very honourable man. He saved my life, do you remember? Now I finally have the means to pay my dept. He wants to end his bloodline, but as you know Maria loves him, and we've been busy for years to find a way to do that without ending his life as well. One year ago, we found that way."

"Your studies." Annette whispered. "So that's what you've been doing. Is that what you mean with Blessing him?" 

"Yes. I mean to lock him up in the chapel and purify him. Now I am a priest, I can do that. There will be no danger whatsoever, I promise."

"Why didn't you tell me?" He lifted her chin with his fingers, kissed her gently on the mouth.

"You would be upset—hush, dear. Even more upset than you are now. Alucard deserves a chance, but in your fear of him, you would forget all about that."

"Yes," Maria blurted out, "You haven't even seen him, and you already think he's a monster. Shall I get him, Richter? You'll see you like him." Richter waved her away, and she darted out the room.

Annette lifted her eyes to his face. She was almost in tears with anger.

"Is that how you see me?" she asked, "An ungrateful coward? Do you think so little of me?" 

"Ann, I think the world of you."

"Yet you thought I would panic."

"I thought I should not worry you with things that might not even happen. We did not know whether we could ever find Alucard back, and whether he would agree. Believe me, darling, I did not tell you about all this solely to spare you unnecessary unease." He did feel ashamed though. She was right, he should have told her; it was just that he was sure she would have reacted with hysterics. That she didn't now, only made it worse._ Still thinking the worst of people eh, Richter, old pal. You'll lose her, if you don't watch out._

"I'm sorry." He said tamely. "I keep underestimating you."

"Yes, you do." A small smile crept up her face, "you keep thinking I'm a young girl who needs to be rescued. I'm not. I won't say I like the idea of one of Dracula's ilk in my house, but if you think you can un-curse him... as you said, he deserves a chance. And he did save your life." She sighed. "Tell me what he looks like. Is he like.. like his father?" The sound of footsteps made her turn around before her husband could reply, and she stood eye in eye with the son of the man who had imprisoned her, less than ten years ago.

Her first thought was:_ it's him, he's disguised himself, but it's him in person_, but immediately she knew he was not. He was shorter than the count, slighter, younger. Where Vlad's complexion had been a pasty white he was only pale, and his features were smooth, beautiful rather than handsome, strangely innocent, while the Count's had had a strong air of perpetual malevolence. Everything that had been hard in Dracula was slightly softer in his son; golden eyes instead of silver, blonde hair instead of white, reserved instead of brooding. Only his mouth was the same: thin lips, slightly upturned corners that gave his face just a hint of mockery._ The smile of a cat who's old enough to be wise, but not too old to loose the fine sense of cruelty all cats are born with._

All in all though, it wasn't an unpleasant looking man.

She, in his eyes, was probably the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. Maria had been right, nobody could overdo this woman in any physical aspect. She reminded him of Lisa, not because she resembled his mother so much, but because she was so frail, so unearthly beautiful. So very married.

To Annette's surprise, the Dhampire blushed and cast his eyes down. He was shy! A bit of the tension left her.

"Alucard." Richter exclaimed, grasping the man's hand and shaking it heartily. "Welcome to my home. May I introduce you to my wife, Annette?" she held out her hand, which he brought to his lips in an ancient, but very elegant manner.

"My pleasure," he murmured. "But I do not call myself Alucard anymore. I have taken use of my first name again." He bowed slightly, thrilling Maria and Annette. "Please call me Adrian."

"Adrian?" He smiled, something Richter had never seen him do before._ The girl has changed him indeed! Alucard, smiling! Miracles do exist after all._

"Yes; Adrian."

Annette motioned him to sit and pulled her sister next to her. She fidgeted with nervous curiosity.

"As you are here, would you like to join us for dinner, Adrian?" It was a totally different question she was really asking, and Alucard laughed softly as he understood.

"I would like to, very much. I do not drink blood, Mrs Belmont. At least, I try not to. It makes me most terribly ill." Annette relaxed completely. He did not drink blood. Thank goodness. She couldn't hold in a deep, relieved sigh. Now it was her time to blush.

"In that case, would you like a cup of tea?" she asked, hiding her red face behind the teapot. 

"Thank you." Maria's green eyes twinkled with mirth. At least she would marry a man who knew how to vamp her relatives.

*

After the 'tea party' Alucard grew restless again. The sooner this Blessing took place, the better. How were they going to do it anyway, and where was the chapel he had to enter? He asked Richter as soon as he could without being impolite, and the ex-Vampire hunter took him out into the garden to speak to him in private.

"I figured you wanted to know what you're committing yourself to. Let me explain. I presume Maria told you about the Schattenjäger book?"  
"Yes, she did." 

"Good. Well, the principle is quite simple; your blood-cells are unholy, cursed, as you say, and to purify them, you must bleed and replace your blood with holy water."

"Simple indeed." Alucard snorted. It was a strange sound, rather like a dog growling. Richter eyed him sideways. "How do I know it won't kill me?"

"You don't. I'm sorry A-Adrian, but I can't give you any proof but what's in the book, and that's centuries old."

"As I am." He sighed. "It's not as if I have a choice; as far as I know, this is the first time there's a chance of becoming human. Yes, I have to become human. I can't marry Maria the way I am now."

"So you do want to marry her?"

"Yes." He frowned a little. "I guess it's a strange reason to propose to someone, but... she makes me want to live." Richter nodded vigorously, though, understanding completely what he meant.

"I know, it's the same with Annette. You know, I always compare her to a glass of clear, cool water; treat her too rough and she'll shatter, caress her and she'll sing, move her and the water will whirl, hold her tightly and she'll warm up to you, but she'll never lose the freshness she had when you first saw her."_ O great, you should have become a poet. The man will think you're crazy!_ But Alucard looked at him with a certain awe.

"You've understood it. I wouldn't call Maria a glass, though. She's more like a waterfall."

The ex-Vampire hunter laughed. They walked in silence for a while, thinking. Then Richter pointed to a building half overgrown with ivy.

"There's the chapel. Would you like to see it, before we begin with the Blessing?" He agreed, and followed the other man down to the doors. The first time he had tried to walk into a church, he had ended flat on his back, wondering who had smashed his skull with a hammer. When he entered the chapel, it did not feel like a hammer but like a chisel driven into his head, right between his eyes. Bad, he thought, staggering, but bearable. Breathing deeply he walked to the posterior, where two cuffs were fastened to long chains, on their part fastened to the wall.

"I thought it would be safer for both of us if you were bound." Richter shifted uneasily. "But if you'd rather..."

"No, I think that is a very good idea.

Listen, I don't know what you think about this, maybe you see it as some kind of.... test. For me, it's dead serious. I do not know how my body will react to this Blessing. I might lose my mind, or try to attack you. You are not my enemy, and I hope you do not see me as yours, but you must NEVER forget what I am. It would not do if I killed you because you thought I could control myself, and I couldn't."

"Believe me, it's dead serious for me too." Richter said. "Do you think I would risk both our lives for something I do not believe in? Not to mention the fact that Maria will kill me if something goes wrong. Try the chains, you'll find them strong enough.

There are a few more things I have to check, but tomorrow I'll be ready. When do you want..."

"As soon as possible. The day after tomorrow."

"Very well." Richter opened the door again, leading the way out. "The day after tomorrow it will be." They returned to the house.

Fighting Evil 8

Dinner, dreaded so much by Maria, turned out to be quite cozy. The only awkward moment was when Riff suspiciously touched Alucard's braid and asked why he tried to look like a girl, the word 'girl' spit out like it was an insult. Annette held her breath, too afraid he would smash the little boy's head to call on him. Richter suffered of no such fears. 

"Don't be rude." He said, smacking his son's bottom with a hard, callused hand. "Apologise." Riff gave a yell, but did not waver.

"I never saw a man with so long hair."

"That's because I'm not a..."

"He didn't have the time to cut it." Maria interrupted. The boy stared her down with a full Belmont _don't-lie-to-me_-glare. Amazing how he looked like Richter, snub nose and all. She raised her hands: "Truly. He has been sleeping a very long time and when you sleep, you can't cut your hair, can you?" Riff suckled his lower lip, visibly wondering whether she was speaking the truth or lying.

"Did you?" he finally asked. Alucard nodded. "Why would you want to sleep so long then? Are you ill? You do look sick."

"Riff! Behave yourself! Come sit and eat."

"I won't bite him." He turned to the child, leaning his chin on his hands. "You could say I am ill, yes. I bet you won't sleep unless you are forced, isn't it. Yes, I remember I hated having to go to bed as well when I was young. But when you grow older, you will come to like sleeping, just like I did. And I came to like it so much, I once fell asleep and didn't wake up until your aunt kissed me awake again, much later."

"You really did?"

"O yes, I really did."

"And she kissed you awake? Isn't that supposed to be the other way around?"

"Well, yes..." Alucard stuttered, being unfamiliar with the story of the Sleeping Beauty, "But I was the one sleeping, so I couldn't kiss her." That made sense. Riff looked at him admiringly. 

"And.... how long did you sleep?" The Dhampire waved nonchalantly. 

"A couple of years."

"Years!?" Admiration became adoration. Annette had to remind him to eat his soup. "And you didn't have to cut your hair?" That seemed to interest him more than anything.

"No. Nobody was there to do it, and I didn't think it necessary, so it just kept growing."

"Ohhh." He swallowed a couple of spoonfuls, deep in thought, and asked: "And this sickness, is that because you sleep so long?"

"No Riff, it is the sleeping itself that causes me trouble.."

"Sorry?"

"He doesn't understand you." Richter explained. "He means that he has to be woken for good this time, Riff. Otherwise he will fall asleep again, and he might never wake up again."

"O. But you are awake now, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am. But your father can help me stay that way much longer than I can by myself."

He stopped when a servant took away the soup and replaced it with another dish, then, as she was gone, leaned over and whispered: "But that's a secret. You shouldn't tell anybody I am here."

"No...?" He looked at his father for confirmation. Richter nodded, smiling a little. The man _had_ changed.

"Yes, it is a very big secret. You must keep it completely to yourself."

"It's a big honour, too." Maria added. "Nobody but we know of it; don't tell anybody." Riff's eyes had grown the size of saucers. 

"Sure!" he chirped. Alucard had made yet another friend. 

The rest of the evening was peaceful and quiet and at ten thirty it was naturally understood that Maria and Alucard would stay at the Belmont estate, no, they were quite welcome and should stay here for the night and had they clean clothes for bed? She could lend Maria one of her night gowns while Richter..."

"If you wouldn't mind I would like to fly around for a bit first." Alucard mumbled, which shut her up immediately.

"You what?" 

"I...I fly. There is a chance I will never be able to do that again after the Blessing, so..."

"He can change into a bat." Maria said with pride. Annette carefully closed her mouth.

"Oh. Well, I suppose... of course you can, but... the servants.."

"I will be very careful, I promise."

"May I ask, then, where will you sleep?" Richter tried in vain to stifle a laugh as he imagined Alucard hanging upside down a lamp, full height, but the man said he would be grateful if he could get a bed like Maria—_a bed** like** Maria, ha! In bed** with** Maria was more likely—_as he did not think he would remain a bat all night. Annette agreed immediately. She both showed them their rooms, chatted a little longer with her sister and went to bed herself.

"Adrian!" Maria whispered into the night. "Where are you? I would like to talk with you. Can you hear me?" She listened for a while, shivering in her thin gown. Finally there was the fluttering of wings, followed by the bat itself when it flew into her room. She closed the window.

"Did you have a pleasant flight?" The creature gazed up at her, panting. He was ice-cold when she picked him up, but he didn't seem to care. "You handle the cold quite well, don't you. Of course you're clothed now, and I'm barely, but if I were as frozen as you feel, I'd be chattering my teeth out." The small body stretched out under her caressing finger, eyes closing with bliss, wing-hands tensing and relaxing like a cat's. "It's a pity you can't change into a cat," Maria mused, "You remind me of one every time you are content. I think you would make a very handsome cat." Abruptly he changed back, fell off her lap and landed on the floor, grinning helplessly.

"God, you do love animals, don't you Maria? A handsome cat?"

"Well, you're a handsome wolf as well, so why wouldn't you be a handsome cat?" He shook his head, amazed.

"You are the first woman who thinks me attractive in animal-form. Fascinating I can understand, handsome no. Not that I don't like it, mind, it just surprises me.

Now, you wanted to speak to me?"

"My, direct, aren't we? Come sit next to me." Alucard looked doubtful. She smiled evilly, guessing why he wouldn't want to sit in reach of her hands. "Change, if you feel more secure that way." She made room for the wolf, keeping her hands to herself. Teasing she could always do later. "I know it's not ladylike to ask, but... are you going to marry me? I wouldn't ask anyone else, but since you have the tendency to appear and disappear at will, I wondered..."

The wolf nodded.

"You are?"

The wolf became Alucard once more.

"Maria, if I had a ring.. but I do, not a ring exactly, but something that is almost the same." He unfastened his shirt at the top, reached inside and fished out the cross he always carried. "There," he said, placing the necklace around her neck, "my betrothal. I will not ask you to marry me until I'm safely un-cursed, but hereby I promise you I will always love you, whatever will happen, and that I will protect you and hold you in honour forever. I would pray if I could, but I'm afraid I get an incredible headache from praying, so..." smiling shyly, he leaned forward and kissed her on her cheeks, her forehead, her mouth. Maria positively beamed. How much sweeter was this unofficial betrothal than Michael's kneeled-spoken words of commitment!

"I love you," she said, and never mind the cliché, she meant it with all her heart.

***

The next morning Maria woke alone. The sun formed a pale ball in the equally pale sky, its warmth melting the ice-flowers on her window. A beautiful morning, the last morning Alucard would see as Alucard, son of Dracula. Where would he be?

When she came downstairs she found Annette humming a tune while she read a book.

"You seem cheerful?"

"Yes. Most amiable, your mister Tepes, I must say. Riff has his heart full of him and he has a very pleasant way of treating him."

"Yes... Do you know where he is?"

"Somewhere in the garden with Riff." She laid her book down. "Give him some time alone, Maria. He needs it. I believe he is more nervous of this Blessing than he wants to admit."

"I know." She sighed and dropped in the nearest chair available. "Where's Richter? Preparing his stuff?"

"I think so, I haven't seen him all morning." She fingered the pages of the book, cheerful spirits gone. Alucard wasn't the only one dreading the Blessing. Yesterday she had heard her husband out, and, although he had tried to hide it, she had understood that the Dhampire wasn't the only one who could be harmed with this. There was a certain danger for the Blesser as well, being the one who battled the curse with his words and actions. Exactly what danger she didn't know, probably not lethal anyway, but it made her skin crawl. If Alucard wouldn't have been such a nice man, or her brother-in-law to-be, she would never have agreed with the procedures. As it was, she felt a sick coldness in her stomach and a deep pity for her sister as well as for her lover. There was, however, nothing to be done for the both of them. Alucard had to be purified. He wanted to be. Who was she to interfere if Richter wanted to do the job?

Riff Belmont gazed up at the man sitting roughly four feet higher than he did. The branches squeaked under his weight, but he sat there completely at ease, halfway Riff's climbing tree, about ten feet above the ground.

"You often climb in trees?"

"All the time." Alucard replied. "Aren't you a bit small to do so as well?" Riff stretched himself to his full two-and-a-half feet.

"I'm not small! And dad's with me most of the time." Actually he was forbidden to climb when he was alone, but he wasn't alone now, was he? Unfortunately the man, like all adults, immediately knew he was not speaking the full truth. In no time he was standing on the ground again, looking cross-eyed at the finger that waved in front of his nose. 

"I see. You want your dad to be angry with me when you fall down and break your arm? I should've known better than listen to you." The child frowned, thin eyebrows meeting in the middle of his forehead. He looked like Richter a lot; same blue eyes, same stubborn look, same power. When he lifted Riff on his branch, the Belmont fizzle of strength ran through his arm. _At least the world won't be without a Vampire-hunter when things go wrong_, he thought, instantly regretting that thought for it brought back unpleasant feelings in his chest. God, he was scared. Tomorrow. Tomorrow his life would change forever.

He looked at the boy and swallowed. _No knowledge of pain or suffering. So blissfully ignorant of curses. I should hate you, but all I can feel is love, tenderness. To have a child of my own...Maria with child...if that could only be possible._

"Shall we go back?"

"Are you going to 'tray me?" Riff shot back warily. To his surprise the man lowered himself on to his knees so they were face to face.

"I never betray people." he said, "Never. Friends are too valuable to betray." A sunny smile rounded the little boy's face. The adult called him friend!

"Me neither." He stuck out his hand, offering friendship. Alucard took it. It disappeared in his huge palm. That moment he would have died for this child._ As I did for Flame._

"Let's go home." he whispered, and tried very hard to blink away his tears.

Fighting Evil 9 (the Blessing)

_'Do you believe in God, Richter Belmont?'_

_'Of course I do. Don't you?'_

_'I... have my doubts. Do you think it will influence your actions?'_

_'No. No matter what you think, I have faith it will work out. And you will see, it will.'_

_'How long will this take?'_

_'Everything together? About 30 hours, maybe a little less.'_

_'More than a day...'_

_'One day until you are human. It has been done before, my friend, and it will be done again today.'_

It was still dark, very early in the morning. Snowflakes turned to water in their faces.

The two men were standing in front of the chapel, Richter in his Hunting clothes, the Schattenjäger book under one arm and his whip under the other, Alucard in his shirt and pants, barefoot, unarmed. He noticed the cold in a detached kind of way, did not care at all, and waited for Richter to open the door.

"One last thing before we start," the Vampire hunter said, "I want you to touch the whip. There is no other object as sanctified as this, and if there is one way to see if we make progress..."

Alucard grabbed the outer end of the whip, let out an involuntary scream and reeled back, clutching his arm. It felt as if his wrist and hand bones exploded_, God father, how could you bear the pain of going through this so many times!_ Very slowly the agony lessened, and he glanced at the strange weapon with sardonic interest.

"Apparently it doesn't like me."

"It doesn't like creatures of the dark. I'm sorry I caused you hurt."

"You will cause me more." Richter sighed. He did not like this, not at all.

"I am afraid so. Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Are you convinced it will work?"

"Yes."

"Let's begin then."

The chapel was quite small, about 14 by 22 feet. Fires under the floor kept the chill at bay, painted glass windows put the space in a warm light.

Alucard watched as Richter fastened the leather cuffs around his wrists, gripped by a morbid fascination. The Faith housing in this place throbbed in his head, made his sight blurry. He was standing on a rug, moved there only for his convenience, testing his reach. The chains left him enough room to stand, sit and even lie down if he wanted to, but kept him safely away from Richter. Good.

He held his hands out for the first letting and hissed when the knife cut through his flesh. A trickle of blood ran down his arm, dripped on the floor and was gone._ Let's begin._

Unholiness must be made holy like a church is made holy; bless the fundamentals to sanctify the rest.

The moment Richter began to read the Blessing aloud, everything changed.

"_In nomine Patris, et Filii, et spiritus Sancti, Intriobo altare Dei_..." Sticks and stones can break my bones, but words will never hurt me. When he was young, Alucard had cursed that proverb; if there was one thing that could wound someone, it was being called names or shouted at by other children. Now he was shocked to find that words could cause him physical pain as well. There was a certain rhythm in the invocation and that rhythm was beating between his temples—insane, it was only a prayer, he was not so evil, he was...he was...his knees couldn't hold him up anymore. Shock painted his face when he sat down heavily; Richter looked up from his reading, lips tight, eyes dark with sympathy. He did not stop for a minute though, went on unwavering: "_Asperges me Domine, hyssopo, et mundabor: lavabis me, et super nivem dealbabor_..."

"O God.." Alucard whimpered, covering his face with his hands. The cadence began to take over his heart beat: "_Mi**se**re m**e**i, D**e**us, sec**un**dum m**a**gnam mis**e**ri**co**rdiam **tu**am. __Gl**o**ria P**a**tri, er **Fi**lio, et S**pi**ritui **Sa**ncto, S**i**cut **e**rat in p**ri**n**ci**pio, et n**u**nc, et s**e**mper, et in s**ae**cula saecu**lo**rum. _**_A_**_sperges me, D**o**mine, h**y**ssopo, et m**u**ndabor: lav**a**bis me, et s**u**per **ni**vem de**a**lbabor_." pound-skip-pound-skip-pound, red sparks before his closed eyelids. He felt something warm spread in the cavities of nose, mouth and throat, and when he leaned forward, blood spluttered on the tiles. For a moment he forgot all about the Blessing, stared unbelievingly at the liquid. Swallowing, he tasted salt; more blood bubbled on his lips as he opened his mouth. _I'm broken..._ Richter went on praying. Latin was replaced by some kind of ancient German, holy words, holy pain._ "__Bewahre deinen Fuß, Vampir, wenn du zum Hause Gottes gehst, und komm, daß du hörest. Lasse sich der Seele reinigen, lebe wieder, es wird deine letzte Chance sein..." _

*

Hours passed, filled with sanctifying sentences. Alucard lay in a sorry heap on the ground. His face was streaked with dried blood and wet with sweat.

_"An der Stätte des Rechts war Gottlosigkeit, und an der Stätte der Gerechtigkeit war Frevel. DochGott wird richten den Gerechten und den Gottlosen; denn alles Vorhaben und alles Tun hat seine Zeit." __Great, _Richter thought, _there's a time for family life and a time for fighting evil. That really makes me feel better. The only problem is there's no evil in this man to fight, only his blood. What does this bloody book know about it anyway? _It was too late to turn back now though, so he read on, pushing back his thoughts: _"Es geschieht wegen den Vampiren, damit Gott sie prüfe und sie sehen, daß sie, im tiefster Seele, selber sind wie die Menschenkinder. __Denn es geht den Untoten wie den Menschen: wenn er stirbt, verliert er seine Seele, wenn ein Sondar stirbt, verliert er seine Seele. Und wie Sondare können die Vampire gerettet werden..."_

_Finally God's understanding. How wonderful._ Alucard grimaced in silence. What was it about Germans that they always seemed to get the better part of deals with the Almighty?

*

"Let's have a walk in the garden." Annette proposed. Maria stopped biting her nails. It was twelve thirty in the afternoon and she'd been awake for three horrible hours. It would have been more if she hadn't worn herself out worrying past night. But three hours was bad enough, knowing Alucard was suffering in this self-imposed torture, trusting her in so far to risk his life. She had begun to doubt the Blessing. She had been sure it would work, as it stood in the book, but now.... he wasn't an ordinary vampire. He was a halfling. What if it went wrong?

"Yes, that's a good idea." It would give her a chance of taking a look at the chapel. At Alucard. She followed her sister to the hall to don her cloak and a shawl, then opened the door and stepped into the snow.

For a moment she forgot her concern because of the pure white beauty of the surroundings, all soft glittering and picturesque snow laden trees. It was very cold, but clear, perfect weather for sleighing or snowball-fighting. A small bird flew up from one of the trees and landed on her shoulder, chirping. She smiled. So did Annette.

"You still have this way with animals, haven't you? No wonder..." abruptly she fell silent, but the rest of her words hung still in the air: ..._the Dhampire, werewolf and bat, fell for you._ She sighed, patting her baby sister on the shoulder. "He will be fine, sweetest. You mustn't be so uneasy. You'll see everything will turn out just fine." Maria smiled, caressing the bird with her cold fingers. But she said nothing, and her eyes were darker than the deep of the sea.

* 

Desperation, Alucard had always thought, was worse to endure than pain. Now he wasn't so sure anymore. The agony made him desperate. He was hurting so much he could hardly keep his mouth shut. The bloodlust roared in his ears; his stomach seemed a gaping hole, not just empty but raw, bloody. Healing, he needed healing, and only the blood could heal him. The smell of Richter's living heartbeat was driving him crazy; who cared about dignity any longer, he wanted blood, he NEEDED it, and he would GET it! With an outburst of strength he threw himself at the vampire-hunter—and almost dislocated his arms when the chains held him back. 

"Let me go." He growled. Richter kept on speaking his words: "_Herr, hilfe Ihre Kinder_.." He would help _him_, right into his grave! "Let me go!" Blood slicked his wrists, but the cuffs did not gave way. It hurt so much, so bad he was sobbing with it.

"You don't want to." Richter whispered softly. "Fight it. Think of Maria, and your love for her." _Yes, think of her_. He tried to picture her face in his mind: a perfect oval, large eyes, sweet mouth....it dissipated into nothingness as another spasm of agony whipped through his body. What was love if he would die here? Maria's face had brought him back to some sort of sanity though, and he pleaded: "Let me out, just a while...no humans... won't kill anyone...nothing...please!" The other man shook his head sadly.

"I'm sorry Alucard, but I can't." The next words were soft, hard to speak. He wished he could stop what had to happen._"Da pries ich die Toten, die noch gestorben waren, mehr als die Vampire, die noch das Leben haben, und Ihrer Durst die Lebenden dreicht und wier Seele wie ein Schiff auf wilder See auseinander fallt.." _

Purify the vampire by baptizing him.

He turned around to a large bowl, standing next to him on a bench.

_Alucard Alucard Alucard! I don't want to be Alucard anymore! I won't be my father's son ever again!_ Those thoughts gave him strength, if only a little. The next moment Richter told him to brace himself and emptied the bowl over his head.

Richter knew vampires could not stand holy water; he had used it himself in Castlevania. Then, it had been a weapon, and he had enjoyed seeing the bloody monsters burning and screaming. This he did not enjoy at all. The moment the water touched Alucard's skin, his eyes went wide, wider and wider until he thought they would pop out, then he opened his mouth and screamed. His flesh turned red, blisters covered his skin, blood welled up all over his body. He tried to change to escape the pain; wolf—bat—mist—human—wolf, over and over again, never completing his metamorphoses, howling at the top of his lungs.

_God, what's happening?_ Fire balls suddenly shot out of Alucard's hands and his shrieks became even louder. Nobody with a heart could witness this without feeling sickened, and Richter, heart slamming in his throat, fled out of the chapel, fell against the door and began to throw up every meal he had ever eaten.

"Richter?" A woman's voice. Maria's voice. _O God Maria, please don't get in Maria please leave him alone don't look at him._.. With sheer will he pushed himself up, wiped his mouth. Annette and her sister were standing in front of him, his wife horrified, Maria looking like she would faint any moment. The woman's face was parch-white. "Is...is that him?" she asked. What?, he wanted to ask, but then he heard it himself: the muffled howls of agony, not completely stifled by the thick walls. It made him feel sick again; he had never heard a human being scream out his pain like this, let alone by his own hands.

"Yes," he said hoarsely. She made a move for the door. "Maria! Don't."

"He's hurting... he needs me."

"He needs to be alone. Please! listen to me. Let him be, let him at least keep his dignity in front of you." Maria's lips quivered. He felt like quivering himself. Thankfully the horrible sound had softened, if not stopped completely. It was more like...whimpering, now. He swallowed. "I have to go back. You shouldn't come...no! Maria, please.."

"Promise me you'll call me if something goes wrong." She balled her fist, determent not to cry. Richter nodded slowly. When he looked back, she was standing there still, Annette's arms around her waist, snowflakes in her hair, hands clasped in front of her breasts. Somehow she seemed small; a girl in a world of pain and suffering. His heart hurt as he closed the doors behind him. 

The inside of the chapel smelled of smoke and pain. Several pews were blackened, one of the frescos on the wall had completely disappeared. _Don't be dead, please, don't be dead_.

He walked to the back, ready to jump back or forward when necessary. 

"Alucard?" A soft moan answered him before a voice croaked: "Adrian. Call me.. Adrian."

He stopped in front of the Dhampire. Not that dreadful bestial creature, thank God. He was human once again, be it hardly recognizable. There was nothing sophisticated about him now. He looked like someone had upturned a bowl of oil over his head, then lit it; all burned and blistered. But even as Richter watched, the redness grew less angry-looking, the skin healed. Slowly, painfully, but he healed. The golden eyes looking back at him were dull with pain, but calm, the strength and insanity gone.

The book mentioned a list of things that could happen to the vampire-in-Blessing: convulsions, severe blooding, brain damage, death. At least Alucard was still alive. 

"Would you like something to drink?"

"Yes.. please." His hands shook so much that he spilled half of the (normal) water down his front, but the rest he drank thirstily. "I don't know whether it's a good sign, but the need for blood is gone." His eyes closed, snapped open, closed again. "I am so tired... do you need to go on?"

"I'm afraid so." He hesitated. "Do you wish to see Maria? She is outside, waiting..."

"No. Not now." He frowned, burned skin fell off his nose. "She'll catch cold, outside... should be at home. Too vulnerable." His eyelids fluttered but remained closed. He was simply too exhausted to keep up conversation.

"I will tell her to go back to the house." Richter promised. "Get some sleep. The next part should be less painful for you." Thin lips twitched into the ghost of a smile.

"Thank you." he murmured gratefully, but he did not hear Richter get up for the pounding blackness in his ears.

*

Later, much later, he lay curled upon the rug, trying not to anger the Words by laying as still as possible. They were kneeling next to him, their iron fingers buried in his head. He could actually see them: two big, book-like creatures with sharp claws, holding his mind in their hands. As long as he lay still it only hurt, but when he moved they squeezed his mind to pieces. He tried to trick them, but the Words knew what he was doing and they punished him for his disobedience by constricting his throat so he couldn't breath. He lost consciousness coughing and when he came to they were still there, holding his soul. It was better not to fight them.

'My God, Alucard, but you are a fool. I knew you were a wimp, but this really beats everything.' Vlad Tepes squatted down beside his son, shaking his head in disgust. 'You let yourself get caught, didn't you? Was it the witch-girl that made you hand yourself over, or did you spare her the trouble. You went for it yourself, huh? You're crazy.'

"I'm not! And I'm not Alucard anymore! I will not live as a vampire any longer!"

'You never _were_ a vampire, Alucard, and you will always be my son. You are so stupid! You never hurt a living thing and you are consumed by guilt all the same. Sometimes I think you're just a masochist.'

"I killed the woman I loved...."

'You killed a foolish girl that shouldn't have dared to even look at you! she was a farmers-daughter, for God's sake!' He thumped his fist on the floor. Alucard winced in pain as the Words made him pay for the movement. 'That was the only thing about your mother I could not stand: that pathetic love for lower beings. In her, I did not like it. In you, it is downright nauseating. Here you are, helpless, letting yourself be tortured by this... butcher, all out of your own free will. You are detestable. I am ashamed you are my flesh and blood.'

"I won't be for much longer." Alucard snarled back. The Words clawed in his brain.

'No,' the Count sneered through the red haze that flashed before his eyes, 'you won't. You, my traitorous son, are dying. And I, your father, will wait for you to come to me. I will give you _reason_ to whimper!' 

"No!" Alucard gasped, reaching for his father's billowing cape, but the action triggered the Words' revenge and he went down with a cry of agony. "Father, you don't understand.... I can't belong to your side.... why do you do this to me?"_ _

_"Exaudi nos, Domine, sanctae Pater, omnipotens aeterne Deus : et mittere digneris sanctum Angelum tuum de caelis, qui custdiat, foveat, protegat, vistet, atque defendat omnes habitantes in hoc habitaculo. __Per Christum Dominum nostrum."_Latin again. The Words beat in his head; Latin made them stronger. Stronger than German. He was cold, sweat-soaked clothes not much of a protection. Richter was still reading aloud. His voice was hoarser than it had been, but still strong enough to hurt him. Strange, wasn't he supposed to be a friend? If only the Words hadn't been there he would have sat up to ask him why he was hurting him so, but they were there; he remained where he was. He was only vaguely aware he was bleeding again.

It was ten past eleven according to the clock Richter had brought from the house. Although he had not rested apart from his sickness, he was not tired or hungry. He felt as if he could go on for years if he had to; he hoped the Dhampire could too. The man was mumbling softly, twitching and shivering on the carpet. It did not help his concentration, but he did not think he could blame him.

He had let Alucard touch the whip twice more, ever with the same outcome: a flash of pain in the man's eyes, a hint of power in his palm. The second time it was definitely less strong then the first time, but it did not disappear. And Alucard was weakening. Most of his skin was whole now, but it had left him exhausted and painful. Maybe he ought to stop for a while.

The squeaking door make him turn around quickly, and Maria sneaked into the chapel before he could say something.

"I want to see him." she said, lifting her chin. "And you won't send me away this time." Richter shrugged.

"As long as you don't get too close. You don't know how he'll react." He did, actually. It wasn't pleasant. His arm still hurt from the burn he had gotten after his last watering the man. Not that he could help it, but Alucard had told him it was safer for him to stay away from him until he could control his powers again. On the other hand, he wasn't Maria.

She kneeled some feet from his reclining form, bit her lip. He looked awful; dried blood strikes over his gray face, fresh blood staining the cloth under his mouth. She called his name in a soft voice but he cringed as if she had screamed in his ears. When he opened his eyes, they were glassy, too bright, strange. _Bloodlust_, she thought, and shivered when he smiled. She had never seen a smile with so much pain in it as the one he gave her now.

"Maria, what are you doing here? They'll see you."

"Who will see me? Are you..." he was NOT all right, stupid question. Richter sat down on the pew next to her, studying the Dhampire and clicking his tongue.

"The Words." Alucard whispered. He tried to get up, but obviously that hurt too much. "They keep me d-down. Don't let them g-get you as well. C-can't you see them?" His teeth began to chatter and he ground them; the Words would not permit it.

Maria and Richter shared shocked looks. _Did we drive him over the edge now_? The Bloodlust never affected him this much, usually. But of course, this was not usual. Maria lifted her hand, asking: "Can I touch you?" The Dhampire shrank back.

"No! Don't, it's t-too d-dangerous..." Damn, but it HURT. There were black roses blooming in his vision. Whatever Maria had said, he could not remember it; the Words stopped it. She went on: "Do you feel the...urge to bite me? Is it the Blood?"

"Yes..." Was it? This cold was not inside his body. "No." The idea of getting warm again was an obsession. "I don't know. I can't think. I can't think anymore..."

Maria frowned; this didn't sound like Bloodlust. _To hell with danger_. She reached out and touched his cheek—and pulled back immediately. She had expected him to be freezing, but he was so hot she almost burned herself.

"Damn it, Richter, he's burning up," she exclaimed, placing her hand back. His face was very dry to her touch, and way hotter than any human being's could get, almost as if a fire burned inside his scull.

"He has a fever?" Richter skipped through a couple of pages, read something, paged further. "Damn, he shouldn't have."

"I c-can't become ill." Alucard protested weakly. "It's physically impossible for m-me to have a f-fever." The others ignored him.

"Do you have some blankets in here? We have to take him back to the house."

"Not here, but I can get some..."

"No!" his voice broke and went up like a teenager's. The Words sank back into his dreams. "I still have something to say on this topic, d-don't I? You have to finish the Blessing."

"Adrian, you.."

"I'm not dead yet!"

"I don't want you dead! I want to LIVE with you, you stupid stubborn wool-headed fool of a man, and I'd rather live with you feeding off the cattle than with you lying like a vegetable in the Renard tomb!" He was quite taken aback. So was Richter. His sister-in-law could open that little mouth of hers much wider than he'd thought possible.

"I'll get some blankets." He mumbled. They needed some time together, obviously. Right now Alucard wasn't much of a danger, and anyway, he was securely bound. Besides, he thought it more probable that Maria would harm him than he her. He did leave the whip, though. Safety for everything. Then he slipped out, leaving the two lovers trying to stare each other down.

Alucard lost, not because his will power was less than Maria's, but because his head ached too badly to keep his eyes open.

"Fine," he said, "you win. But I'm not planning to die anytime soon, nor t-turn into a vegetable. Richter must finish the j-job, otherwise everything w-was f-for n-nothing." A gust of wind from the door made him shiver once more, and the pain was enough to wrench a groan from his throat. Maria's cool fingers returned to his forehead, stroking his hair from his face.

"I know you are strong, but I've never felt anyone as hot as you are now, and I don't like it one bit. You must have over a hundred and seven, way over."

"I cannot become ill," he repeated dully, "what you feel is probably my Pyrogenetic power, muddling up inside of me." He shivered, and she noticed his nose was bleeding. He did not. With a cold feeling in her chest she turned to get him some water.

"Do you know which of the chalices holds ordinary water?"

"No... you can find out soon enough if you drop a bit on my hand. If it's holy water, it'll burn me, if not, I can drink it." He was so bloody easy about it! How could he, with the heat steaming off his battered body? The first chalice turned out to be the right one, so she let him drink some of the stuff before she dipped in her handkerchief and started to wipe the blood from his face. It seemed to make him feel a bit better, for he closed his eyes, sighed deeply and fell asleep.

A couple of minutes later Richter and Maria sat next to each other on a pew, discussing the chances of success.

"He is terribly weak, damn it, he couldn't even sit up!"

"This is a chapel; please don't curse." Richter replied automatically. "The man is not your possession, ma petite. It was his choice to undergo this, and I don't think you can take him away against his will."

"But he's dying!"

"You don't know that. I admit, I think he looks like hell, but you mustn't forget he's not human. This could be something like a flu for him."

"I doubt it." Maria glanced at the still form covered with blankets. White faced but for the high colour on his cheekbones. No matter what he said, she knew he was terribly ill, and would be even more if he remained here. "How far are you with the Blessing?"

"About two third of it all." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "The last part is mainly reciting. A lot of time, but not really bad. But the last baptizing...."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean Holy water. But then on the inside."

"You want him to drink it!?" The sound of her voice woke the Dhampire from his slumber, and he looked around dazedly. 

"-omething wrong?" he whispered, clutching his head. "Why haven't you continued?"

"Adrian, I don't think..."

"Maria, if you can't watch this, please go outside. You told me yourself you believed it would work and I will not have you doubting your own thoughts by simply... looking at me." He pushed himself up against the wall and tried to appear reassuring. Too bad he was not at all succeeding.

"He's right." Richter said, patting her shoulder, "you were so sure it would work."

"That was until I felt him burn up." Maria whispered. She felt like crying, but didn't, knowing it would do her no good anyway. They were both doubtless? Very well, what could she do to stop them? Nothing. With a tender kiss on Alucard's brow she accepted her defeat, and hoped, prayed, that they were not mistaken. 

*

Which was the same Richter thought, five hours later. He had about fifty pages to go yet _and_ the internal admission of holy fluids, but how on earth was he going to administer fluids into an unconscious man? The last two hours he had checked regularly whether the man was still breathing. Maria would kill him if Alucard died...if he wouldn't die of shame and guilt first. He had liked Alucard, Vampire-kin or not, and he HAD saved his life. Dying was not on option.

He lay down the book and squatted beside the Dhampire. He had said he didn't perspire; well, he was doing it now, it would have streamed off his face if his temperature hadn't been so high. If it would not completely burn him inside, the water would probably even help him a little.

"Are you awake? Come on, give me some response here.." One bleary eye opened, pupil so dilated it seemed black instead of hazel. _Thank God for small mercies._

"Time 'e drink 'e venom?" Alucard whispered. Richter nodded.

"If you think you can't do it, don't. I don't want your death on my head."

"Don'...die... so eas'ly." He pushed himself up, swaying as he sat. "Stop fussing." Remarkable, the way he could still look arrogant in blood and sweat sodden clothes and his skin the colour of bleached bones. There was no other word than commanding when he held out his hand for the cup. 

_Well, this is it. The moment of truth._ Never mind he was so scared he could hardly breathe, never mind he was going to scream. After this he would know whether he had failed or triumphed. He closed his eyes briefly, sending a loving thought to Sylvia—no, not Sylvia, Maria—and drank.

And he did scream. He screamed until his lungs and throat gave out and blood covered him from head to toe. It dripped out of his pores, leaked from his nose, eyes, ears. When he finally stopped Richter was ready to commit suicide. If Maria had heard _this_, if she saw him like this....

"It has been _enough_." he said through clenched teeth. "I can't go through with this. I will not! I will not be forced to kill you. Do you understand!? I will NOT!" The Dhampire, maybe just man now, hopefully, stirred. Fifty pages... he just wouldn't survive it. Richter felt for a heart beat and found it, fluttering under his fingers in the burning flesh of the dying man. It stopped, went on again, fast, then slow, stopping again.

"Let's get you out of here." It just had to be enough. Only fifty pages...it had to be enough. He pushed the blankets aside and carefully placed his arm around Alucard's waist. The chains. Damn it. He loosened the cuffs.

"-re f'n'shd?" the Dhampire whispered.

"No. But you are. I'm taking you back to the house."

"Ohhh..." the other exhaled, and became a limp, heavy weight in his arms.

*********************************************************************** 

Author's note: there, my private torture scene. I said it would be nasty! I stole the Latin phrases from Eng's Chaos Chronicles and the German stuff are part Prediger and part my own fantasy. Hope I didn't step on any toes with this, and if I did, I'm sorry. 

See ya next time,

Chameleon

I guess these people talk Romanian, but as I write this in English and don't know any Romanian I use Oldish English for Old Romanian. I hope you are not disappointed.

************************************************************************

Fighting Evil 10

Vaguely, Alucard remembered being carried through the snowy night, cold wetness on his hot face. Then there was an undistinguished period of time in which he was completely out, then warmth and voices, but the warmth made him shiver, strangely enough, and Maria was talking to him but he didn't understand a single word she was saying. He blacked out again, only to wake naked in a bed, hearing his own voice rave on in a language that had changed ages ago: "...promise thee, thou willst not suffer, I will not harm thee..." at least, he thought it was his voice, but it was so hoarse and raspy he almost didn't recognise it. It reminded him of the time of the Blood, the period he had forgotten as soon as he could... blood... blood... there was a woman, pushing him back against the pillows. She was pretty, known, but what was she doing here in his tomb?

"Please calm down," she whispered softly, "you'll start bleeding again." She wasn't afraid of him. Why wasn't she? He had killed his lover, only yesterday, or was it longer ago?

"What century is this?" he rasped, trying to get a grip on himself. He really couldn't remember. How long was it ago that he met Trevor Belmont? Had it all been some kind of dream, an invasion of his mind by creatures like the Succubus?

"It's the 19th century, October 1802, can't you remember?" He could, that was the whole problem. There were so many memories, he had been so many persons...

---

He came to with convulsive shivers rocking his body. Alone, this time. His mind was relatively clear, although a bit foggy with the pounding headache he still had, but he knew who he was and where and when. _Alucard. I'll probably be Alucard for the rest of my life_. He sighed, and frowned with the pain of that simple action. Great. He had never been ill in his whole life and a visit to a puny little chapel screwed him up so bad he had to stay in bed to get better. _Well, it's always better than blood lust_, he mused, pulling the sheets closer around his body, _though if you satisfied that need, it wasn't so bad at all_...NO! never again. Not that. Never again. He closed his eyes and hoped he would get warm somehow.....

---

"Please do not touch me," he murmured. Maria looked up from the book she tried to read but was too nervous to concentrate on, and hushed: "Nobody will... o damned, you're bleeding again."

"Don't..." his skin was covered with a film of bright red sweat—or blood, whatever it was. Making calming noises, she dipped a piece of cloth in a water-filled bowl and carefully wiped it away, flinching as she did so. It was eerie to feel the cloth warm up so fast in her hands; not half as horrifying as her lover's condition, but terrifying anyway.

"It's all right. See? Now, we have to get some more fluids into you."

"Not blood!"

"Of course not. Water, or juice if you think you can manage that." He smiled, that strange, non-human smile he showed just before a particularly bad attack of Blood fever, and she took a step away from him. "Are you quite all right, Adrian?"

"O yesss," he hissed, "perfectly fine. I'm burning all over and there's blood everywhere, but I've never been better. You were right, I was stupid." He nodded to himself, head held a trifle slanted as if listening to something she could not hear, and went on, using words she'd never heard before: "Thou sayeth so with Flame, but thou wart wrong, the lass was not a Hunter..." he shook his head, closing his eyes. "It was my fault! Mine. Maria," his eyes fastened on her face, blazing, "I never meant to kill thee. Thou must believe me!"

"I believe you." she assured him. "I know. I know everything."

"No, you do not." He hissed softly as she dabbed at his face with the cloth. It may not be fever, but the heat made him hallucinate and cold water, if it didn't bring him completely out of it, did calm him down a little. His mumbling became softer and softer, until it died altogether: "Thou dost not know anything..."

Maria sat down heavily on the bed. He seemed to have been ill for weeks, but she knew it was only ten hours. Strange, how exhaustion and fear could stretch time. Tiredly she brought a hand to her face to push her hair out of her face and saw she still had the bloody cloth in her fingers. She flopped it back into the bowl.

Annette had told her Alucard was an adult who didn't need her to watch him, but she was wrong; the poor man was so delirious he didn't even know who he was at the time. Besides, it was for her own ease of mind rather than his, for she was afraid he would disappear into thin air as soon as she turned her back. His illness had three stages, as she called it: the shivering state, in which he was perfectly conscious but so cold he could only curl up in fetal position and wait until he got warm again; the fever stage, in which he sometimes got so hot his hair began to curl and the blankets began to smoke; and the final stage, which he had now reached: total exhaustion. She touched his face, relieved to find he had cooled down to his normal temperature. It could rise and drop within minutes, and had done so now, for the third time this day. _Pyrogenetic powers indeed_, she thought, playing with strands of moist hair. In the state he was in, she could do anything she liked, he was as good as comatose, or tomatose, as she used to say when she was small. A tomato was not exactly what came to mind when looking at Alucard though, there was nothing red and round about him. The only vegetable she could compare him with was leek, but she detested leek, and he had told her, promised her, he would not be a vegetable. She smiled, stroking the tiny braids she had subconsciously made out of his face and kissed him on his forehead.

"Sleep tight, my sweet leek, and get better. I'll go and see whether Richter has woken up yet."

The man had crashed out as soon as he lay down, completely beat after the Blessing. There was nothing he could do to improve Alucard's condition, but she felt the need to be comforted, and somehow Annette just didn't do. She didn't have the knowledge.

With a last look to the peacefully sleeping....creature, Maria tiptoed out of the room.

*

Richter awoke halfway the next day, still feeling drained. The ordeal had taken more out of him than he had expected, and he hadn't even finished it! His first thought was Alucard, and he walked to the man's room, not bothering with any other clothes than his peignoir to check on him. He found him fast asleep, and his sister in law in the chair beside his bed, equally fast asleep. It would be a shame to wake them now, so he went back to his room, washed, dressed and went down to kiss his wife good morning.

The first he met, however, was not Annette but his bouncy young son, who whooped with delight when he spotted his dad. Richter smiled; a good portion of child-devotion was exactly what he needed right now.

"Hello Riff." He called, sweeping the boy up in his arms, "What've you been up to today?"

"Mommy baked a cake!" Riff squealed happily, blissfully unaware of adult-problems. "An APPLE cake!"

"Did she now?"

"Yes, she did." Annette said. She walked into the living room, holding up a large spoon dripping with apple sauce. Riff wriggled out of his father's arms and made a grab for it. "It calms me down, baking." Richter took her in a tight hug.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart." The woman buried her face in his neck.

"I heard him... scream," she whispered haltingly, "and I... I remembered... the castle, and the... Count..." she swallowed a sob, wishing she wasn't such a cry baby, and tried to finish her sentence: "All the lost souls... and he did this because he wanted to. How could he do this to himself? How could YOU do this? You frighten me! How can you stand hurting someone like this?"

"I can't." He answered quietly. "But he made it, didn't he?"

"Until now, yes. But he's been so ill... I was afraid he would burn up and disappear with the wind. Maria and I didn't know what to do."

"Do you want me to take another look at him?" She nodded, and he hugged her again. "Don't worry Ann, it'll be just fine. 

Have you chased the cook away or can I still get breakfast?" She smiled through her tears, nodded, and pulled him to the kitchen where it smelled wonderfully of apple cake.

* 

Alucard had his talk with the Vampire Hunter between shivers and deliriums, and the only thing that became clear, was that he was not going to die, would get better as soon as his fire powers settled and would probably weight next to nothing because the holy water had done some serious damage to his insides. Whether the Blessing had worked at all, he did not know, and, he said, wiping bloody sweat from his brow, he did not care anymore. At Richter's shocked expression he mumbled something about not being a Vampire anyway, and about fire purifying even better than water and that his father had denied his existence.

After that, he sunk back into his fever dreams and was unintelligible. 

At least he was harmless, Richter thought as he forced worry and guilt down, and not in pain anymore. With his healing factor he would be healthy within a week. He hoped. He left the man sleeping in a tightly rolled up ball and tried to go on with his life.

*

_'Do you remember the old times, my son? Do you remember the feasts, the ecstasy, the hot throbbing pleasure of the blood? Do you remember how it warmed your frigid skin and brought colour in your cheeks? You used to call it a dance, before the red-haired woman took your heart away from me. I can still see you stand in the middle of that orgy of death with your eyes like the sun and your features alight... I was proud of you then._

_Now, look at you. You're dying, all the passion and light is gone. You're dying, and the only thing that can heal you is what you keep denying yourself. Alucard, why don't you just take it?'_

"I don't know." He whispered. He stood in front of the window, gazing out over the estate. The shirt he had worn in bed lay crumpled on the floor; he couldn't bear wearing it, it scratched his skin and was moist with pink sweat. Maria was not here. Where was she? Had she finally left him to die in this hostile house? 

He tried the door and found it, unsurprisingly, locked. So they wanted to keep him inside. They should have thought again. The window was easily opened, fresh air blew in his face. Goose bumps spread over his skin, but it was good to stand here and let the wind clear his mind.

Blood. They would keep it from him, well, than he would have to go and take it himself! With a soft groan he willed his human form to change, and it did, slowly, arms becoming wings and hair changing to fur.

_Free!_ he thought triumphal, and the small white bat soared into the clear autumn air.

"Darling, you cannot beat the King with the Jack."

"But he got a sword."

"He _has_ got a sword. Yes, I know, but the King's still stronger. Only if you have an Ace of the High colour you can..." Riff threw down his cards.

"When's daddy coming home 'gain? He promised me we'd go hunting." Annette smiled. Hunting meant trying to catch squirrels; they'd never managed to catch one, but Riff was convinced he would succeed one day.

"Daddy is out with aunt Maria. They needed a ride. I think he'll be home before tea. Until then, you'll just have to wait." Riff kicked his legs, looking cross. Grown ups could be so unfair; EVERYBODY could see the Jack was stronger than the King. And dad had PROMISED him they would go hunting. And where had the long-haired man gone? He'd thought his father was going to help him, but now he had disappeared completely. It was not fair.

How long had he been ill, that his wings were so weak now? It couldn't have been longer than a day or two, but every muscle was shaking by the time Alucard sailed into the kitchen. _They've starved me, that's why I'm so weak. The blood will heal me, it always does. No animals, they make me sick, no, humans, their blood is so sweet, how could I forget..._ There was only one person in the kitchen, a nice, fat, healthy woman in her fifties. The cook. Alucard giggled. _Make me a dish, it won't cause you pains, give me the blood, you keep in your veins. Bad poem, I used to be better._ He fluttered round her a couple of times, but she was so busy kneading the dough she did not even notice him. Good. He let himself drop in her neck, bit through the layers of skin and fat and sucked.

The scream had the windows tinkering. Annette dropped her cards and sprang up like someone pinched. _The kitchen_. Riff grinned broadly; screams like these always meant vermin, rats, mice, frogs, beetles. All kinds of things he liked to collect. Happily he ran after his mother as she raced to the kitchen.

"What is it?!" The cook stood in the middle of the kitchen, one hand in her neck, the other wielding an enormous spoon like a barbarian would wield a morning star. Riff shrank back in terror.

"VERMIN!" she screeched, moving her bulk to the place where the unfortunate creature was lying now, "It BIT me! I don't know what it is, but I will not...!" Then Annette saw the small white thing fluttering between the coals, and she jumped to the rescue.

"Don't! Anna, that's one of Maria's birds!"

"That aren't no BIRD, Madam. It BIT me!"

"Maybe it was scared." Fast as lightning she pushed herself in front of the massive woman and grabbed for Alucard. He seemed to be dazed—as he ought to be after a whack with the spoon. It did not stop him from biting however, and she almost dropped him again. Anna was right, he did bite... _Oh Richter_...she could actually feel him sucking the blood out of her. Riff pulled her skirt: "Mommy, what is it? Can I see it? Is it a bird?"

"Yes." Annette managed. Tiny teeth munched on the flesh of her index finger and she fled out of the kitchen; she had to get rid of him, he had to change back now, and then away with him. He had SWORN he didn't drink blood, he had SWORN!

"Mommyyyyyy!" Riff screeched, following her as quick as he could, which wasn't fast enough to keep up with her.

"Stay down there!" Ignoring the child's protests she ran to Alucard's room, but halfway the bat began to wriggle to get out of her hand. She squeezed her fingers close. _O no you won't!_ Blood dripped through her fingers and she winced, not of pain but of disgust and shock. Once in the room she immediately locked the door with one hand, fumbling with the key. Riff was NOT to come in! It was then that she noticed he had released her finger and was not only wriggling to get away but also convulsing, and it was the blood he was throwing up now that stained the bedroom floor. Annette sighed.

_You poor bastard_, she thought, sitting down on the bed and putting him down on her lap, _you really can't help it, can you?_ After a couple of minutes he stopped convulsing, lay exhausted on her knees. Without thinking she brought her hand down to ease him, but the moment she touched him he began to scramble backwards, fell on the floor and tried to fly away. She stooped and caught him before he could.

"Don't do that. Adrian, stop it! You have to change back. Do you hear me, you have to change back to human form." The white bat jumped out of her hands on the pillow and tried to hide under it. Annette shook her head.

"You needn't be afraid, I won't hurt you." The sudden reappearance of the man startled her, and she had to check herself to keep from fleeing. Bright golden eyes looked back at her out of a pale, bruised face. 

"You won't burn me? You won't hit me to death with your whip? You won't put a stake through my heart, or behead me?"

"Oh God, Adrian! What kind of person do you take me for?" He shook his head, pulled his knees to his chest and hugged the pillow to his body—which was naked, Annette suddenly saw. Of course, it made sense. He was blonde, and so would be the bat if he wore no clothes.

"I take thee for a person I bit while I'd given thee mine oath I would not harm anybody here." He rubbed his left temple, where a big bruise was turning bluer by the moment.

"You said it made you sick, and it did." He barked a laugh that was more a sob. Annette watched in shock as two tears streaked his cheeks, unnoticed by the man himself as he said: "And how much good will that do thee next time? I killed the woman I loved after swearing I would not harm her... an accident, of course, by accident, but I killed her, and I could not even stay to bury her..."

"You killed a woman?" Annette whispered incredulously. Alucard nodded. The tears dried on his cheeks.

"Yes. But she was only one of.... I don't know how many. I tried not to kill them, I hate the taste of death, but what father did with them I do not know. For Flame I stopped the Blood... not that it helped her a great deal." He raised his face, and his expression was so strange, so wild Annette moved away from him. How could she have thought he didn't look like his father, it was the Count from tip to toe, madness hidden by a thin layer of manners. How could Maria love him? She made one last effort to calm him down: "But you turned away from your father. You helped killing him, you beat Evil...."

"Evil!" Alucard spat, "What is Evil but what people make of it? When a she-wolf wears herself out to feed her cubs she's a Good creature, when she attacks the people who try to catch her and kills them she's an Evil beast. In your precious Bible—yes, I know all about that book—it says that it is a sin to kill your fellow men, but now I've killed my own father I am considered a hero. It's insane!"

"If you think it's insane, why did you do it?!" Annette cried. "Nobody forced you to kill him!" His shoulders slumped over the pillow.

"....hurt Maria." he whispered.

"Excuse me?"

"I could not let him hurt Maria." He smiled faintly. "He was crazy, Vlad Tepes, my father. And he would have hurt her. Was he Evil, my father? I don't know. He was cruel, but he'd always been cruel. I used to think my mother's death was nothing to him, but now I know better."

"Your mother was burnt, wasn't she?" _Great tact, Annette, keep it up. Maybe you'll push him over the edge if you go on like this_. Alucard only nodded though.

"Yes. I was there, saw her burn. I could have saved her, you know, and I tried, but she stopped me. She stopped me..." Annette leaned her back against the wall, trying to follow his pattern of thought.

"She stopped you from saving her?"

"Yes..." 

"Why?" She wished he wouldn't look so helpless, it made her feel sorry for him. 

"I don't know. I... can't remember. Something she said about humans and a hard lot..." he frowned, chewing his lower lip. "She died, and father never even talked about her. How did I hate him. How I despised myself for being his son... but it was so much easier to forget and let it rest.

I've always called it lust." Again he jumped from topic to topic, and Annette desperately tried to follow him.

"What? The Blood?"

"Yes, the Blood. It hurts, you know, if you don't satisfy your need. So much easier to take what I need, to do as he says. But the Bloodlust won't let itself be kept once it is released, as Sylvia knows, dear Sylvia. When she died I lost the last of my soul. And I thought I could get it back. I was a fool. Such a fool." He seemed to pierce her with those burning eyes of his, pools of insanity. Slowly Annette began to move to the door.

"Don't you understand? I thought the Blessing could make me whole again, but I've never been broken!" He laughed once more, without mirth, a bitter, dark laugh that rasped Annette's ears. She had no idea what he was rambling on about. She doubted he knew himself.

"What do you mean, Adrian?"

"My mind!" he went on without answering, "It's all in my own mind. I'm not two halves, but one twisted whole. He was right, I cannot change my blood, I never was a Vampire at all. I just have to come to terms with my mind!" Annette bumped her back against the door. He did not look at her, though, he was listening to the weird voices in his own head. And nodding excitedly.

"I need to think," he said suddenly, to her, and she jumped with fright. If Vlad had been crazy, his son wasn't far behind him. "I need to think." And with that he changed, once more, in a bat, and flew out the window. 

************************************************************************

Author's note: confused? Good. I realize I did not follow the script completely, but come on, Dracula, dying peacefully, saying he's sorry when his darling sonny slays him and says his loving wife didn't want him to hurt humans? BS! First, Good old Drac had to have been a vampire before he took Lisa as his lover, for how could Alucard have vampiric powers if he wasn't?So he had to have been a blood drinker when he met Lisa already, and if you think he is the same Dracula as the one from the previous Castlevanias, that's the only thing that makes sense. How could she expect him to take another diet when she died? Love's great, but she simply asks too much! Second, Vlad's supposed to be a villain, and villains don't say they're sorry.

And about Al, I think that our poor little Dhampire was in fact a horrible dweeb, a moody whiner who was too weak to take matters in his own hands. I think he was slightly schizophrenic and had a horrible trauma because of his mother's death. Sylvia I made up because you can't make me believe one Belmont can make a vampire go to sleep. I don't know anything about CV 3, but I just don't believe Trevor met the guy and Al suddenly realized: "Gosh, you're right, I hate my dad, maybe my bloodline's cursed. I guess it'd be better if I went to sleep, because I can't commit suicide." Crap! 

There, that's out. Sorry if I insulted devoted Castlevania-players 

Fighting Evil 11

"This was a good idea." Maria said, inhaling the fresh air, "Sometimes Ann can be surprisingly wise." Richter chuckled.

"You really shouldn't think so little of her. The only reason she's afraid of Alucard is that she was a imprisoned by his father."

"I know. But he never harmed her." A squirrel ran up a tree branch and launched itself straight into her hair. She yelped, then laughed and pulled at the fluffy tail. The animal chattered and angrily put his little paws on his tail to pull it back. Richter smiled. He held out his hand to the rodent, but it hissed at him and snuggled close to Maria's neck.

"It won't come near you, my friend, you know that," the woman teased, "they only come to me."

"They will only lose their fleas on you." he slapped his forehead. "Damn, I forgot all about Riff! I promised him I would go hunting with him." Maria sniffed, petting the squirrel.

"Just as well. The boy's way too small to learn such a cruel sport."

"Aww, we never catch one anyway, and he loves it. You know what little boys are like."

"Actually, I don't. But I can imagine.

There, little fellow, go back to your tree. No, I haven't got anything to eat in my hair.

Well, if you promised Riff to go hunting, I suppose we'll have to go back, don't we? What time is it? Close to four o'clock, I think. Tea-time!" Her brother-in-law agreed, and they turned their horses to go back home.

Annette sat at the table, pale faced, looking at her right hand. As soon as she heard the sound of hooves and the voice of her husband, she sprang up and opened the door. They were laughing, talking about...fleas? She walked out to them, was greeted joyously.

"He's gone." Was al she said. The smiles died on their faces.

"Gone? Where? How?"

"Why?" She shook her head. Maria ran inside, feet pounding on the stairs. "Adrian! Adriaaan!"

"What's happened?" Richter asked, taking in his wife's livid appearance. She looked like she'd seen a ghost. "Did he harm you?"

"No! Yes, but he didn't hurt me...he bit me.."

"He BIT you? Where, in you neck? Ann, where...?"

"No, here, in my finger. Come inside. I'll tell you." Maria came down just as they sat themselves on the couch, Alucard's big black cloak under one arm.

"Where is he?"

"I don't know. He said he had to think and flew away; I think he'll be back when he's cleared his mind."

"What happened?" Annette waved her hands.

"If you'd let me finish my sentence you'd have known already! He...There was a scream, in the kitchen. Anna. I thought she'd seen a rat, but she said she'd been bitten by a bird. The bird turned out to be a bat. A white bat. Adrian. So I took him with me, and then he bit me. It didn't hurt me a lot, but...He was sick after that, and tried to get away, but I made him change back, and we had a very confusing conversation.

Did you know he killed a woman named Sylvia? Anyway, suddenly he exclaimed he had to come to terms with his own mind and flew away. Just like that." Gratefully she squeezed Richter's hand. "He frightened me."

"I can't believe it!" Maria cried. "One afternoon I am not here and you let him escape!"

"Maria! behave yourself! I'm sure he'll return as soon as.."

"He's ILL! Half of the time he doesn't even know what he's talking about! How can you be so...unfeeling!" She turned on her heel and stormed out of the room. A second later the front door slammed shut.

"Damn it!" Richter swore. "Stupid girl, I'd better follow her. God, I'm sorry Ann." He kissed her quickly and ran after Maria, leaving Annette on her own in the sitting room.

*

They searched until dusk, calling his name and looking everywhere, but they did not find him. By the end of the day, Maria was so cold and tired she began to cry with desperation, and Richter judged it time to stop.

"He could be anywhere. It's no use looking for him now, and you'll only catch your death this way."

"But it's freezing! He'll freeze to death and then I'll never find him." 

"So will you." Richter said softly. He took the cloak out of her hands and spread it over her shoulders. It only made her shiver more. "Look, we won't win anything if you get pneumonia, and it's too dark to see anything. Maybe he's returned already." At that, she brightened a little.

"That's possible, isn't it?"

"Of course. And if he hasn't, we'll just have to wait for him to come back on his own. We can go on searching tomorrow." She nodded, rubbing her icy hands. Richter took them in his own bigger hands to warm them, pulling gently. She came with him docile enough.

Dinner past in silence. Riff was angry because everybody had forgotten him, Maria was tired and agitated, Annette felt guilty and was afraid for her son, Richter wanted to battle something, preferably something that would fight back. Fiercely. Nothing but trouble with the Tepes family.

"I will be in my room." Maria announced when she got tired of playing with her food. 

"We'll warn you if there's any news." Annette said. Her sister nodded. Her footsteps were heavy as she went up the stairs.

"You do understand I don't want to stay here while he's roaming outside, do you?" Richter nodded. He took a sip of his wine.

"Of course. Where will you be going, your father's?" The spoon fell on the table and hit her plate with a clunk. Richter was surprised to see her face was white with shock. "What is it?" She threw down her napkin. "What is it?"

"I thought..." She looked at Riff. "Go and play with your toys, darling. Go on, you're excused." The boy ran off. Annette fastened burning eyes on her husband. "I would have thought you would choose for me! You promised me you would never hunt again..."

"Annette, please! you know I can't kick the man out just like that! He saved my life!"

"And he's ruining mine! He BIT me, he scared me to death, he bit Anna! What if he bites Riff? I will not have that creature in the same house as my son and I won't leave my home!" Richter slowly counted to ten.

"I'm sure it will work out. But since he is not here, it is impossible to tell him you want him to leave. Be reasonable. It was an accident. He was ill. It won't happen again."

"HE wasn't so sure." Annette replied stubbornly. "HE said he killed people before by accident. And the last time I saw him, he wasn't ill, he was plain crazy. Richter, Blessing or not, I want him OUT. I just won't take the risk." Richter Belmont pressed his lips together until they formed a thin white line in his handsome face. He placed his cutlery neatly on his empty plate and leaned back.

"I will bring you to your father's house first thing tomorrow. Take Riff with you, he's safer with you. I will pick you up again as soon as he's gone; after I've done for him what I can." Annette was speechless. Her hands quivered with anger.

"Fine!" she snarled, and stood with such abruptness her chair toppled and fell over. Even in her fury she was beautiful, maybe even more beautiful than usual. Nevertheless Richter sighed deeply when she had gone and wished he had never married. Women!

*

In the woods, hidden in a hole in the ground, Alucard watched the snowflakes fall down on his uncovered paws. He had flown until his heart began to stutter, then changed into a wolf and run until his mind was empty and his body gave out. Now he floated in a pleasant not-knowing drowsiness, enjoying the warmth of tired muscles. It did not matter the snow was covering him entirely; as a Dhampire, the weather could not harm him. 

Dhampire. Cursed blood. No. Not cursed. Unholy yes, cursed no. It was clear to him now. Annette's blood had helped after all. What he had called a curse all these centuries, was simply his heritage, and in itself, it was as much a blessing as a curse. He was able to fight Evil, just as the holy warriors, just like Richter. Why would he want to change? To be no longer a danger for the humans he did not care about? The only reason to have himself purified was Maria, and not for himself. The man he grudgingly called his father had been right, be it in a fever dream, he WAS a fool. How could he be himself if he lost what was the base of his existence? His blood, the Bloodlust, his shape-shifting powers; it was what made him himself and trying to change that would end him as surely as it would end the 'curse'. He would have to live with his own imperfections, it was that simple. Maria had said it all the time: _you didn't hurt me_. Somehow he could control himself better with her, better than with Sylvia. Better than with Annette. He was painfully aware he would have killed her if he would have been in his human form. Bats had small stomachs, were full sooner than humans...

He rolled over, blinking at the snow. He felt a bone deep exhaustion pulling at his mind, as he had felt ever since the Blessing, and he sighed. As far as he knew nothing else had happened than that he was in constant pain from his burned insides..._but who knows_, he suddenly thought, _maybe something has changed. I haven't been to the chapel after it, and Richter said he didn't finish it because he could not bear torturing me anymore. If I can get into that chapel without passing out, then maybe...I can't change my body-functions and I'll be a blood drinker for the rest of my life, but maybe I can restore my soul after all_. Excitedly he bounced to his feet—and sank down again. _Blast, what the hell? _He pushed himself up, a little more careful this time, and slowly began to walk back to the mansion.

For the first time in his life, Adrian Tepes was confronted with the limitations of his almost Omni-capable body. It shouldn't have surprised him after the strains he had forced on himself, but he _was_ surprised, more, he was appalled. In all these years the only thing that had never let him down was his own physical strength, and now he finally came to appreciate the rest of his character that was the very first thing that let him down! God, but life could suck! And now he was thinking of inconveniences, the fact that the cold could not hurt him didn't mean it was _comfortable_ to wander around in nothing but his hair-fur. He longed for his cloak and boots—and Maria, lovely warm Maria with her moss-green eyes and her small pink mouth. Maria, who was as brave as any Hunter. Maria, in whom he had more faith than in Richter. A small smile broadened his maw. First his cloak, then Maria, then the chapel. He began to run.

The moon was already on her way down when he finally sank against the wall under his chamber. God, but he was tired. Holding this form began to become hard, which meant his strength was as good as exhausted. Well, he'd known that for a while, so that wasn't much of a surprise, but that did not make things easier. To spare his strength he temporarily morphed back to human form and closed his eyes, panting. Breathing hurt now, the weakness made him dizzy. Perhaps he ought to eat something; he hadn't eaten for three days and the molten snow he had licked from his snout wasn't enough by half to sustain him.

_Stop whining, get in. Inside you'll find everything you need._ Good. He braced himself for this last task, willed flesh to shrivel, bones to stretch, muscles to shrink. Bat was more difficult than wolf but he made it into his room, collapsing on the bed when he was inside. Immediately he became human again. Just to lie here, not to move, ever again...no. Maria. Not easy to get up with muscles shaking so much he very nearly lost his balance. Creaking doors, why was it so quiet? Was it so late? Her door was locked. Strange, his own door had been open now. The cloak was gone too. Great.

The sound of a clock chiming startled him; one chime. One o'clock or half past something. He did not care. But a knock would wake every living soul in this house: Hunters had sharp ears. Sighing deeply, he released his hold on reality for one last time, let go of mass and, as mist, streamed through the keyhole. 

Unfortunately, that was the last thing he could take. He succeeded in getting out of the hole before he changed back, but that was about it; he hit the floor with a hard thump and blinked out.

*

It could not have taken more than half a minute, but it was enough to wake, rouse and startle Maria. He came to with his head lying in her lap, being kissed very thoroughly over his whole face.

"Where were you?" she whispered in between kisses, "I've been so worried. Are you all right? Where were you? We've searched everywhere—God, you're cold! Are you all right? How did you get in?" He smiled wearily at her questions. Women, all the same. They just couldn't let a man rest for a while.

"I flew. It's cold outside. I do not know where I was. I'm sorry I caused you worry." A maximum of answers in a minimum of words. He silently congratulated himself, but Maria wasn't finished with him yet.

"So you should! Do you have any idea how much you scared us? Just disappearing like that without a hint about where you were going?" Alucard closed his eyes and smiled contented. How he loved to hear her speak. He curled himself around her as closely as he could and made a soft, purring sound. Maria stopped berating him. It was no use anyway; the man wasn't even listening. Besides, she was too glad he was back again to be angry, and looking at the dark circles under his eyes and the hard lines of his jaw-, collar- and cheekbones he'd had his share of difficulties as well.

A knock at her door made her look up. Richter's soft voice: "Maria! are you awake?" So he had heard the thump.

"Yes." she hissed back. She looked at Alucard, but apparently he had fallen asleep, so she shrugged. "He's back."

"He's back? Is he all right—are YOU all right?" She smiled, invisible for her brother-in-law. O, she had never been better.

"Yes, we're both fine. He's cold and tired but unharmed...go back to bed, Richter, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course. Come on, go, before Annette wakes up. We'll meet you in the morning." He sighed, but as she made no move to open the door there was nothing else he could do but return to his bed and the beautiful, frigid woman in it. At least the Count was safely here. A wide grin split his face as he thought of possible reasons why Maria wouldn't open her door, and he shook his head, blushing. _You're one sick, frustrated puppy, Mr. Belmont! I'd better make up with Ann before I die of neglect._

-

"Come, let's get you into bed. It would help if you moved your legs. Adrian, would you please wake up, you're chilling me to the bone!" That woke him up long enough to allow her to push him to the bed, pull back the covers and crawl in next to him. Romantic as that was, it certainly was _not_ comfortable; he was so cold he sucked all the heat from her body.

"How did you get it into your head to go outside like that." she scolded softly, rubbing his arms to warm him and her hands at the same time, "Why didn't you come back sooner?"

"I couldn't fly..." he replied sleepily. "Too tired.." Too weak. If it was one thing Maria wasn't, it was a fool. He had told her changing took a lot of energy; he must be starving.

"Can I get you anything, then? Lord knows you could use something to eat."

"No, thank you. If you don't mind I'd like to sleep now. And tomorrow..."

"Yes?"

"Tomorrow...we'll see." Maria smiled. She patted his chest, then pushed him onto his side and lay down herself, front against back, like spoons.

"Yes...tomorrow we'll see. Good night."

The only answer she got was deep, regular breathing.

*

Relatively early the next morning, Alucard sat at the table in the dinner-room, wolfing down large quantities of toast with jam and coffee, dressed in everything he owned apart from his gloves. The black cloak hung over the back of his chair like a shadow made cloth.

"What is it?" he asked after swallowing the last piece of toast. Maria sighed and tapped her finger on the letter she had found on the table.

"Apparently you scared the hell out of my sister; Richter's bringing her to my house. Don't look so guilty, Annette can be a serious pain in the neck and since you didn't hurt her..."

"It's HER house. She had the right to throw me out."

"Yes. but it's Richter's house as well, and I think he didn't want to hear about it. Leave it to him to be muley and keep you here."

"Muley?"

"Mule-like. You have no idea of how stubborn he can be. Have you finished?" He leaned back, nodding satisfied. "Good. Now, what shall we do?"

"You'll end the Blessing."

"Ah yes, that's a good idea—what?!"

"You'll end the Blessing. I know you can do it."

"You can't be serious."

"I am serious. Listen, I've been thinking yesterday, and I think I've finally understood what I have to do to...to be what I want to be without losing myself. I need you to finish what Richter has begun, to cleanse the darkness of Evil from me.

Hush, I know I am not Evil, although I do not think my father would agree with me. But it is a fact I am dangerous to other people, people like you." He smiled, taking her hand in his much larger one, "People I love. The Blessing will remove the last of that taint—I hope. After that, it's up to myself. And to you."

"Will you be screaming again, when I bless you? will you burn and suffer and bleed? For if you will, I won't do it. Not because I don't want to help you, but because I cannot bear to harm you. It must be female weakness, but I WON'T torture you because you think it's right." Alucard flushed scarlet. He hadn't been aware she had been anywhere near when he lost control.

"I'll try to be silent." She shook her head, at a loss for words.

"Please?"

"Why? You're fine to me as you are now."

"Then I'll wait until Richter has returned and ask him. I cannot explain anymore than I already have, and if you do not want to do it, I understand, but it will be done. With or without your help." Curse the man and his stubborn hide. Maria swallowed, sighed, frowned and gave in. The small smile he gave her only made her feel worse.

*

The book still lay on one of the pews, next to the two chalices. A small piece of paper was stuck between page 432 and 433, with 51 pages to the end. Alucard smiled, though what for she couldn't guess. She carefully laid down the whip, stolen from the chest where Richter had put it, and looked at her fiancé, standing in front of the chains on the wall.

"Do I really have to tie you down?"

"Yes." He sat down, rubbed his forehead. It wasn't so bad, this time. Migraine-like, agony, but not as scull-splitting as the first time he was here. Maria looked unhappy while she fastened the cuffs around his wrist, but she did it. She was a strong girl. She was also scared to death, but that, she didn't show.

"There. Are you happy now?" He pulled her close, ignoring the chains, and kissed her. She kissed him back.

"Just do it, I know you can. Only a couple of pages; you should be finished within two hours."

"I hope so." Maria said softly, and then she took the book in her hands, switched into German and began to read the words aloud...

It was around noon that Richter Belmont gloomily turned the carriage into the lane to his house. He was glad he was alone, for he was sure he would have barked at every servant, any living creature, that was close enough to hear him. Annette was beautiful, sweet, and he loved her very much, but at the moment he would cheerfully wring her pretty neck. If she could only understand... But she could, and she chose to think different. Well, it wasn't his fault, that was for sure. He only hoped it wouldn't cause a split-up. One in the family was more than enough.

A servant came running out to take the horses from him, and he managed to only growl and not bark. He felt like killing something. Maybe he could finish the Blessing now, he certainly felt like doing that at the moment... But Alucard was nowhere to be found. Neither was Maria. He asked whether Anna knew where they were, but nobody had a clue. Damn it. What if they'd run off? That was exactly Maria's style. Nervously he paced around the house, getting angrier by every step. Damn the woman! And damn the Dhampire! Where were they?

*

Slowly Maria closed the Schattenjäger-book. A small puff of dust blew in her face, smelling of ancient knowledge. She did not know how long she had been reading, but it had seemed much longer than two hours. How long had it seemed to Alucard?

He was half lying, half sitting, his back against the wall, humming softly. It did not sound like purring.

"How are you?" He winced, covering his ears with his hands. "Not so good, huh? Does your...it pretty obviously does. Sorry." She touched his face and was relieved to find it cool, if wet with sweat. "Do you think you can get up?" He smiled like a skull.

"No,...not...yet. Won't survive throwing...up. Besides,...bad for...interior."

"You spoiled the rug anyway. Feel free to vomit." Alucard was not amused. She unfastened the cuffs, appalled to see the skin underneath them raw and bloody, and small, rapidly healing wounds in the palms of his hands from his fingernails. He hadn't made a sound, apart from his humming, which he was doing still. Now she felt guilty; who knows how much it had taken him not to cry out if he had balled his fists so tightly he had cut himself like this?

"What is it you are singing?" she asked, pulling his head down in her lap. He murmured something vague. "What?"

"An old song...from my youth. It popped up in my head...can't get it out. Children used to sing it..." He sighed, and she thought he had fallen asleep when he intoned in a horse voice: "

'O Lady, wouldst thou walk with me

then I will pledge my hearth to thee.'

'Thy fire, Lord, I do not need

I have mine own that I must feed.'

'O Lady, wouldst thou dance with me

then I will give my heart to thee.'

'A heart is soonest broken

I ask another token.'

'Then Lady, take this ring from me

then I will pledge my soul to...thee.'"

He coughed, moaned, coughed again. Maria heard him swear in the folds of her skirt. She was NOT going to feel pity, it was his own fault. She did NOT feel sorry for him. She tenderly massaged his temples and damned her feelings for the man. After his coughing fit he went on with his song, mumbling the words so she had to bend her head almost to his mouth to hear him.

"'Your soul, my Lord, a worthy thing

I accept thine offer and will wear thy ring.

thy mind I'll consume and the r-riches you bring;

a queen I will be, with...thou as my king.'

'Then Lady...wouldst thou know me...well

I'll give thee my soul and take thine...to...hell.

The b-blood in...thy veins...will serve me well;

thou hast lost...thou hast....'"

"Easy, Adrian. No need to ruin your throat." But he went on with that bloody song, whispering it over and over again as if someone forced him to keep talking, and suddenly she understood what it meant. It was the story of Lisa, the woman the Warakivans had thought a witch and who had grown out in that song to the figure of a woman whose greed had been her doom. And her son knew it by heart. _God, were they a twisted family!_

The creak of the door started her; Alucard positively jumped as Richter stalked into the chapel. Lying with your head in someone's lap was very nice, but only when you and that other person were alone. The presence of another man, especially a Belmont, was not what he considered snug. The Belmont in question had a vague impression of bared teeth and rising hackles before the pale features returned to being those of a man; a rather haggard looking man.

"What on earth are you two doing here?"

"We finished it." Richter was no fool. He understood what they meant. His mood darkened even further, if possible.

"You? You can't do that, you are not a priest—what is my whip doing here!?" He made a grab for his weapon, cradled it protectively to his chest. Alucard smiled. Somehow his teeth were bigger than Richter could remember, and his eyes were definitely insane. He took a step backwards.

"Your whip, Mr. Belmont, is here to be held by me. If you would be so kind..?" 

"Adrian.." Adrian rolled in one smooth motion to his feet, holding out his—healed—hand. He was still humming that awful little tune. 

_'This time he REALLY lost his mind. Since when are his eyes black?'_ The smile disappeared, and Count Dracula snarled: "Give it to me! Now!" And Richter promptly placed the whip into his hand. He could not believe he did it, his eyes bulged out, he began to sweat, his mouth fell open...but he did it, just like that. And just like that, Dracula was gone and Alucard was back, gripping the handle like it was a sword. His face was parch- white with pain, but he held it for more than a minute before he gave it back.

"Thank you." he whispered. "Now, if you will excuse me..."

He turned on his heel and slowly walked to the open door.

"He did it! We did it!" Maria cheered as soft as she could without exploding, minding the atmosphere of the chapel, "he held the whip! I Blessed him!" Richter took her by the shoulder to keep her from darting after her lover as he stumbled outside. She embraced him, giggling like a girl, whooping: "We did it, we did it!" non-stop. He could not disappoint her. So he smiled: "Yes, we did." and hid the blood dripping whip behind his back.

Fighting Evil 12

Adrian F. Tepes, more commonly known as Alucard, sat with his back against the white brick-stone wall, trying very hard not to pass out. Yes, he had held the whip, and yes, he had survived once more, but all he wanted now was find a quiet place and sleep for a couple of centuries to recover. 

He was vaguely aware of someone standing in front of him, talking to him. Maria, of course. Sometimes he doubted her having a brain; maybe he ought to put a plate on his chest which said: LEAVE ME ALONE. Sylvia had had that too, that irritating habit of 'being around' when all he wanted was solitude. Maybe that was the reason he killed her. Maybe some basic part of him had finally had enough of the eternal meddling of everybody and lashed out, freeing him of the last person that could—somehow—hurt him.

He did not think so though.

"What is it?" Thank God Maria did not throw the cliché '_I wanted to know if you were all right_' to his head. She merely observed him, fingering her dress. He sighed, wishing he could send her away without hurting her. There had been a time when other people's feelings had been unimportant, why weren't they now? Somehow time and bitterness had made him afraid to hurt people—a laugh, really, as other people only seemed to live to make life harder for him. He tried to flex his fingers, but they still would not move. Great. He opened his eyes, already opening his mouth to tell Maria to go to hell...but she was gone. She had actually left. Adrian felt a flash of panic; had he spoken aloud, was she really gone, would she come back again? Cold sweat suddenly rolled down his face and he called her, called her back, but she did not return. He struggled to his feet, bumped his arm and almost went down again. His vision wavered.

"Maria, come back. Please come back. Please come back, please..." It was no use. No use. He looked at his fingers and was unnerved to see them shaking. '_This is not me. This is NOT me_.' But who was it then? Alucard? Alucard was dead. Adrian? Who was Adrian, some whimpering fool with shattered nerves, the man he was now? And Adrian was Dracula's son as much as Alucard was. Who of the two had fallen in love with Maria, Adrian or Alucard? He tried to laugh at his confusion, but the only thing he could do was cry, for what he was, for what he had been. He collapsed against the wall, weeping soundlessly, wishing, for the first time of his life, that he had died before his father.

The day passed slowly, twilight darkened into evening, and still Adrian sat outside, hidden in the growing shadows. Maria turned the cross over and over in her fingers; it shone in the fire-light. 

"Then Lady, take this ring from me

then I will pledge my soul to thee." she sang in herself, then hummed it again, twirling the thing on its necklace. _Then Lady, take this cross from me, I'll love you an eternity._ She bit her lip, enclosing the crucifix in her hand, feeling it warm up to her flesh. The eternity was there, but she wasn't too sure about the love. His face had been so empty, not even cold, like the first time she'd met him, but totally blank, devoid of every emotion. She had won, but it could very well be that she had lost him forever as well.

"Do you think I should check on him?" Richter shrugged. With his wife and son gone and Maria silent he hadn't known what to do with himself, until he had thought of the whip, stained with blood and a little scorched at the grip, and set himself to cleaning and repairing it. Accompanied by a bottle of whisky. He wasn't drinking away his sorrow—there was no sorrow to drink away, only frustration—but it was nice to sit here with the fire in the hearth warming him on the outside and the liquor warming him inside. Leave it to Tepes to be outside in this bloody weather; he was happy here.

"I don't know. I think he'll come if he's ready. Why don't you go and see if you can tame Riff's rabbit, up to now it looks more like a lion than a rabbit.

You used to have an owl; I've missed it for some months now."

"He's dead. Grew old and died. I let him go two years ago." She smiled sadly. A lot of things had changed since then.

The fire danced when a gust of wind provided extra oxygen; the door swung open and Adrian stepped into the room. He was covered with snow and looked desperately composed, depressively somber and utterly...frozen.

"You look like you need a drink." Richter said. The other man nodded. He took the offered glass in a gloved hand, brought it to his mouth and emptied it. Richter filled it once more. Again he tossed it in one swallow.

"Make it a double," Maria suggested dryly, "then you don't have to pour every time." Two pairs of male eyes glanced at her fleetingly and ignored her. By the time the Count sat down the bottle was more than half empty and his pupils so dilated his eyes seemed black. 

"I hope I did not damage your...instrument?" he inquired with a slight slur in his words.

"No...not so badly. It's easily mended."

"Oh. Good." He was, Maria realized, busy drinking himself into a stupor. She had never seen him drunk and it might be an interesting experience, but she did not particularly want to see it NOW.

"How about your hand?"

"It'll mend as well."

"What do you mean? Did you wound yourself?" Adrian leaned his head back in his chair, staring at her through the fringe of his lashes. He was laughing softly; must be further gone than she'd thought. "What happened?"

"I held the whip, do you remember? I cannot do such a thing without paying the price."

"What-what do you mean? Can I...would you mind..." she moved over to him, took his left hand—again his left—in her own. Gloved. "Can I have a look at it?" He drained another glass.

"If you feel like it." She didn't miss his flinch at her touch though, and she felt her stomach cramp in dread when the glove stuck to his palm. '_Damn it, why doesn't he SAY something?'_ A sharp tug and the bloody thing came off, leaving his long-fingered graceful hand bare, and she gasped at the blackened, raw burn that covered most of the inside of it. He snatched his arm back, covered it with his right and said: "It'll heal. It always does."

"It very well may, but you really should..."

"I do not think there is _ANYTHING_ I _SHOULD_ do at the moment."

"NO, you stupid fool, but life would be a lot easier if you would let me finish for a change! Don't you DARE take it out on me!" She clenched her fists, trying to control herself. God, but the man could maker her angry! At least he was silent; she hoped it was not with red hot fury. "Let me put a dressing on it, and something to ease the pain."

She saw his throat work, heard the click when he swallowed. _Please don't let him start to cry. I can handle anything but tears. Damn Richter and his whisky, after such a long time of fasting it would make anyone sick. Don't let him be sick._ But he nodded, and immediately she decided to take him up with her instead of bringing bandages down. It was better if he was away from Richter. Better if she could get some sense into him.

"Will you come with me then?"

"Why don't you give the man a break? It's nice and warm downstairs, why take him to..." Maria used her expressive eyes to shut him up. "All right, all right. Go up, have a talk, make up. I'll see you two tomorrow." Thank God for small mercies. Adrian made two attempts to rise and succeeded finally with Maria's help. She shook her head, and he chuckled at the look on her face. It had been ages since he last drunk alcohol in so pure a form, used as he was to wine. Mostly because he did not like it, also because, with his strange digestion, the alcohol remained in his system for a much longer time than with ordinary people, which meant that if he got drunk, it stayed that way for at least a whole day—like the hangover. Not a thing he was really looking forward to. Of course he wasn't drunk NOW, merely tipsy.

Once he was standing, the effects were less. Maybe sitting in the cold the whole day had made him a little rusty as well. The stairs was another business, but he made it without falling over or stumbling, although the floor was rolling under his feet.

"You are humming." Maria told him when he sat down on a chair near the medicine box.

"Oh." He answered distractedly, and went on with it. She giggled behind her hand, she couldn't help it. Then she thought about the possible reasons why he was like this and she became serious again.

"Here, hold out your hand."

"What is this?"

"Aloe. Works for everything. Come here." She took a bit of the creamy stuff on the tops of her fingers, hesitated a moment and dropped it on his palm. Adrian flinched. Rubbing it in did not seem like a good idea. "There." She reached for a bandage. "Now, tell me, why did you hold it for such a long time, if it burned you so badly? Was it because of me?" He grimaced.

"No, Maria, it wasn't because of you. I...I couldn't let go. I just could not. I...I...Not so tight, please."

"I'm sorry."

"I cannot change anymore." She stopped, shocked.

"You can't? Are you sure?"

"Yes. I tried, but...my arm refuses to cooperate. At all. It is...painful."

Knowing the man it was probably the same as having your bones shattered. He tended to understate things a little. 

"Perhaps you...it could be that you are human now."

"No...the ability is there still, hidden in my bones. But I am so weary of it all..."

"You should have a good night of sleep, then you'll feel better."

"Yes...you are probably right."

But she was not right. There was no way he could ever regain his strength after a single night of sleep. How could he tell her that it was not only his body that was tired but his mind, his soul as well, and that the thought of living with her now seemed like hell? When his mother died his sole reason to keep on living was to kill his father, and when he was dead there was Maria and his love for her, another reason not to kill himself. When she came back to him she brought with her a promise of a life without pain, but now he had that life, what was he to do with it? There still was pain, but his strength was gone. There was Maria, but how could he live with her when he did not feel human at all?

He fell asleep with her head on his shoulder and her arm lying across his chest, but his dreams were chaotic and wild, filled with fiery whips and pyres. In the early hours he woke up panting and kicking, hardly comforted by Maria's caressing murmurs. She tried to make love to him but while his body responded his eyes were far, far away. In the end he drifted off again, pressed close to her breast yet miles from her mind.

The next day was the same; Adrian was sleepwalking through life and no one could reach him. Let alone he himself. He desperately tried to find himself another reason to go on, but the gloom refused to release him.

"Post Blessing Stress," Richter joked; nobody laughed. Maria waved her hand in front of his eyes; no response. She felt like shaking him until his teeth rattled in his head. What had gone wrong precisely, why was he withering away like a drying flower? He had promised he would not become a vegetable! She said that straight to his face, and finally some interest returned.

"What did you just say?"

"That you wouldn't be..."

"...a vegetable. Yes, I remember. You made me promise in the chapel. Do you remember?"

"Yes."

"_I'd rather live with you feeding off the cattle than with you lying like a vegetable in the Renard tomb_. Yes, that was what you said." He smiled. "The tomb. Does your family really have a private mausoleum?"

"Yes..." What was he up to now? They were sitting outside on a bench close to the house, watching the snow-laden trees and collecting birds on their shoulders. Apparently they mistook Adrian for a part of the bench. Now he moved to look her in the face though, and they flew away. There was a hint of excitement in his tone as he said: "Is that tomb on holy ground? Is it sanctified?"

"Yes...no, it's not on holy ground, but I guess it's been consecrated. Why?"

"I used to sleep in a tomb..."

"NO! No, Adrian, you cannot go back...not now!"

"Why not? Maria, have you looked at me? Really looked at me? I'm nothing!"

"You are the man I'm going to marry!"

"I'm not a man! Can't you see?" He grabbed her face in his good hand, forced her to look at him. "Can't you see?" he repeated, a little softer, and she tried to see what he meant. Pale, beautiful features, a trifle sharper than they had once been; light eyes. Empty eyes. There used to be arrogance there, and mockery. Was that what he meant? She covered his hand with her own.

"But I love you. I don't care if you're not the man you used to be, as long as you are with me."

"I do." He let her go and resumed his brooding. Maria took a deep breath.

"What do you want then?" she inquired quietly. "Back to the safety of a tomb?"

"Yes."

"The Renard tomb."

"Any tomb. I can build one myself if you do not want me in your own. I do have the means."

"It's not what I want, it is Annette who will make a scene. Although she sometimes can be surprisingly understanding. But...can't you sleep in a house, we can buy ourselves a little cottage...?" He smirked, swaying to and fro with his left arm against his chest.

"I can't. The presence of people awakes me. You did, some time ago. No, I have to be away from everything, somewhere dark and peaceful." Maria nodded slowly. She did not like this at all, but what could she do? Forbid it? Cry, scream, swear? It would not change his mind. Better to help him and get him somewhere safe than to give him up and never see him again.

"How long would you be sleeping?" she asked. He was still rocking.

"Not long. I know you do not have as many years as I have...although I'm no longer convinced I AM immortal. Not long. A few months, enough to heal and..."

"How badly ARE you hurt, Adrian? You do not speak of it, but there really is something broken. What is it? Your hand?"

"Among other things, yes." he replied evasively, not wanting to talk about the deep black abyss in his soul, the pain and the overwhelming sense of loss—a loss of something he did not even remembered having. "You wouldn't understand. You cannot." 

"Why not, because I am a woman?"

"Because you are whole.

The mausoleum might be a bad idea; it's too close to people. Isn't there any place in these surroundings where nobody ever goes, a swamp, or a forest...haunted ruins?"

"There is a huge forest in the north; the heart has never been explored. But you cannot possibly build a shelter by yourself, and if you bring workman they will know where you are." Adrian smiled tiredly. He looked tired as well.

"It does not need to be a tomb. A coffin will do just as well; as long as it is dry and secure. I will not have to be in there for longer than half a year—at the most. Perhaps I will wake up after a few days and find myself as good as new." He did not sound convinced.

"Will you at least show me where you'll lie?"

"Of course. You will have to come and get me if I have not returned after six months." Six months! An eternity!

"Will it be so long?" The man turned back to her. He tipped up her chin with his finger and kissed her with more warmth than he had shown the last few days. Strangely enough that made her want to burst out in tears more than his cold silence had. 

"Not if I can help it. Please Maria, don't cry. You didn't cry when I ran away from you five years ago, and then you did not know whether you would ever see me again; don't start now."

"Then I didn't love you." she was whining, and she knew it. Adrian sighed. As the sun slowly set the sky to fire, new snowflakes began to fall.

*

A big, comfortable coffin was not difficult to obtain, to Maria's horror. Within a week she and Adrian drove a wagon-with-casket into the forest to find him a place to stay.

"It will be horribly cold." Maria said, hoping to persuade him to stay even now.

"When I sleep I do not feel cold."

"And wet; there'll be snow."

"I shall find myself some shelter under trees."

"What about rot?"

"This is strong wood, and besides, I will be there only for some months, not enough for the box to decompose."

"And what about bears and wolves?" Adrian looked at her sideways.

"They will find me very hard to digest. I heal fast, do you remember?

Listen, I'm sorry I cannot stay with you, but it really is impossible. I promised you I would marry you and believe me, I will. But if I would stay with you it would be hell for the both of us, and I refuse to destroy what we have like that. It may sound hard, but you'll just have to live with it."

"I will. But it that does not mean I should like it."

For some minutes they drove on in silence. Maria toyed with the crucifix, absently humming under her breath. _O Lady, wouldst thou dance with me/ then I will pledge my heart to thee..._

"Please, don't sing.. that. It brings back unpleasant memories."

"You sang it in the chapel, when I purified you."He frowned. 

"I did? I must have been further gone than I was aware. I hate that song..."

They had taken her away and ended her innocent life, ruined his youth, driven his father to insane hatred, damned their own souls; and they made a SONG of it! The first time he'd heard somebody sing it he hadn't understood, then, when it dawned on him, he'd gone mad with anger. There had been a lot of other people's blood thrumming in his veins, that day. A lot of deaths. Nobody had sung it for a very long time after that.

"Don't sing it; forget it. It will not do anyone any good."

They had left before sunrise at five AM, they halted at seven PM. It was horribly cold and dark, and Maria snuggled as close to her lover as she could. His cloak covered her completely; after a while she fell asleep against his chest, happy with the situation if not the reason. 

Adrian smiled as he looked down on her. He HAD something to keep him going after all; she was right here beside him. Flame returned to his thoughts, lovely Flame. She had been a barren, had a miscarriage at sixteen and could not get children after that. She had been safe. Maria, as far as he knew, was NOT safe. Until now he had not made her pregnant, which, he thought with a faint smile, was finally something realistic in their fairy-tale relation. Only in stories the girl got pregnant after one roll-in-the-hay. Or more than one. 

He gently shook Maria's shoulder, whispered: "We're here." She blinked sleepily, looked around, turned her face back against his chest. She could feel his lungs expand as he sniffed they air and the satisfied sigh when he could not detect any human smell apart from her. 

"This is the place?"

"Yes."

"Did you mark it on the map?"

"Yes." She leaned a bit closer, wanting to remember this moment, the feel of his body, the vague scent of soap and smoke that clung to his clothes. The crucifix cut into the soft flesh of her breasts.

"I'll miss you." she said in a small voice. He answered with a hug. The self-made map was pressed into her hands, then he pulled away. In the flickering lantern light he seemed impossibly gothic, ethereal and unreal. The coffin fell with a thump on the frozen ground.

"I will accompany you back to the living world." Adrian said, unharnessing the horses. He had bought the wagon and placed ordinary horses in front of it so that they did not have to take the heavy cart back. "Or is it too cold for you now?" He shouldn't have had to ask, he knew it was; it was freezing. "Good," he said, "then we'll stay here until morning. Are you hungry? Eat something, I do not need anything."

So Maria ate what she'd brought, then snuggled close again. They sat in the coffin, hidden from the wind by the upstanding lid, warmly tucked in under a couple of blankets and their capes. Quite cozy, actually. Next to her, Adrian lifted his right hand. A soft, warm light played over his palm, then grew stronger until a small ball of fire hung a couple of inches above his hand. It lit the bleak interior like a lamp, providing heat as well.

"So you can do that still."

"Apparently so. Are you comfortable?" She nodded. The coffin was broad enough to sit in with one's legs bent, long enough to shift and turn—if he would do such a thing when he slept—without banging one's head, and because the lid was hollow it was possible to sit straight and not having to leave the thing completely open to get oxygen inside. It was, in fact, a lot better than the wagon and its meagre cover. Maria only hoped the horses would not freeze to death with only a blanket on their backs. "Good." He mumbled, a little late.

She studied his profile, glowing dimly in the light. It was beautiful and haggard, eyes closed, impossibly long lashes throwing shadows on his cheeks and eyelids. 

"Adrian?" 

"Yes?" Drowsily.

"You do not HAVE to bring me back if you do not feel up to it."

"Don't be ridiculous. I will not let thee...let you travel alone in this hostile forest."

"I have done so in the past. And I'm still alive."

"Yeeeessss." was all he said, and she knew he would not let her go alone.

* 

She woke up somewhere in the morning, having to go to the bathroom. Urgently. One peek outside made her close her eyes, torn by the two choices: going out in the cold and relief herself with the chance of freezing her toes off, or staying here, warm and cozy, with and exploding bladder. In the end she disgustedly chose for the first option.

Adrian blinked owlishly when she came back.

"What on earth have you been doing?" he asked as she wormed herself as close as possible to his bare skin to warm up. He heard things rip in her numb fingers.

"Waste." He gasped when she put her icy hands under his arms. It DID wake him up enough to show proper interest in her condition.

"Oh. Shall I conjure another fireball?"

"Please." A second ball drifted into the right corner. Maria sighed, smugly. Not only was she thawing, she had also succeeded in thoroughly chilling the unpleasantly comfortable man beneath her. That should teach him, having no 'waste' to care about.

"You don't mind me warming myself, do you?" she purred innocently. "The cold doesn't harm you, hmm?" You wouldn't say, she thought, rubbing her cheek against pebbled skin.

Adrian seriously reconsidered his plans. Maybe a couple of centuries wouldn't be too long after all...

When the sun peeked over the horizon, they both clicked their tongues to the horses and began the ride back to the nearest town.

Maria chattered along. Wasn't it a nice day, so clear and crisp and cold, perhaps it would snow again tonight, and wouldn't Christmas be soon? Did he know how many trees went up in smoke on Christmas day, because of the burning candles people placed into them? She remembered a day, when she was young, that...on and on and on. Even to her own ears it sounded like false happiness. She wasn't happy. She wanted to blubber and wail. She wanted to curl up and cry for hours on somebody's shoulder. She forced her mouth into a cheerful smile and kept talking.

Adrian could have been a marble statue for all the signs of life he gave. Not a statue of a man, more something like an ominous bird, the kind you found sitting on the gallows chewing on the victim's eye; something dark and unpleasant. Something like a gargoyle. She wondered if he had ever played hide and seek in his castle with someone, pretending to be a gargoyle and winning because he resembled one so much. She did not really feel like asking. 

_'And I was so proud I could make him smile. Damn it, couldn't he at least TRY to be human! This is not the way I want to remember him.'_

As if hearing her thoughts, the Count suddenly eyed her with a determined expression.

"Can you braid my hair again?"

"Yes...of course. Why?"

"Because this time I do mean to cut it off, and a braid is easier than all those loose strands.

How fast does your hair grow, Maria? One inch a month? It's halfway your back now; give me until it has the same length as the braid and then come and get me." Maria was puzzled. 

"Why all this trouble? I can get you in six months without comparing my growth of hair with yours." He shrugged: "I read something like it, and I liked it. Humour me. Let me leave my strength in your hands." He was blushing slightly, and she smiled. Silly fantasies were not particularly feminine things, then.

"Fine, if you want me to." He nodded. They rode on, mood lightened. The snow squeaked under their horses' hooves.

As the first tendrils of smoke blew into his face, Adrian stopped. Maria understood the motion and followed him as he dismounted. She pulled her gloves off with her teeth, gathered a fist-full hair between her fingers. If he had only wanted to do this to make sure she would remember this moment, he was succeeding. Every detail was forever etched into her memory; the sharp difference between blonde hair and black cloak, tiny molten snowdrops on his shoulders, her own red fingers struggling with numbness and grief.

She finally began to cry when he cut off a few hands of the plait, but this time she did not care anymore. She was a woman, and women were allowed to cry.

"Don't." Adrian whispered, but his arms were protecting and strong around her, and he could just as well have ordered her to fly, because now she had started she was unable to stop. She tried, but she couldn't. Worst was that she didn't even know WHY she was so upset, since it would only be a short separation. Maybe the last stressful days had finally caught up with her. 

Just what should one do with crying females? Comfort them? Not exactly his specialty. He tried to console her by saying he would come back, and she only sobbed harder; he said time would fly, that there still was Christmas to rejoice in, and she gave a loud wail; only when he told her her nose would look like a tomato if she went on like this, she laughed weakly, scrubbing her wet face with shaking fists. 

"Sorry." she mumbled, "normally I'm not this sentimental." She sighed. "This is it, then? The moment of goodbye."

"Yes."

"How do you want to be w-woken? Eggs and b-b-bacon?"

"A kiss would be enough." He set the example himself, which nearly undid her again. Adrian made a mental note not to touch her again. What he had said was true, her nose DID look like a tomato as it was now. He didn't want her to look like hell when she came back home; the last thing he needed was a Belmont revenge-party on his heels. With a click of his tongue he set the horse moving again.

At the edge of the forest, close to the town, they stopped for the last time. Maria had composed herself in so far that she didn't break down in tears when they said goodbye for real, but her voice was thick and trembling when she actually talked. So she did not talk, only kissed him until her vision darkened with lack of air, and she had to release him. She knew he watched her as she rode down the road with the other horse beside her, and turned to wave when she was far enough to safely cry without being seen. He waved once, then only stood there, gradually disappearing into the shadows. 

The last time she looked back he was gone, white face and all, like he had never been there at all.

*

*

THOUGHTS

*

'_I've always been very good at suffering. Elizabeth used to tease me with my unhappiness, saying I was a spoilt child who needed a good beating. She also said I would not be happy if there wasn't something for me to moan about. I hated her for that, but now I think about it, she may have been right—in some things, that is. _

_I once read an old Greek book called Oedipus Rex, by...Sophocles I believe, and now that story is rolling through my mind—strange, how things long forgotten can come back to you when you half-dream. Oedipus' life was rather like mine, or maybe my life was like his, a Greek tragedy. I too hated my father, I too loved my mother more than was right. I too KILLED my father...but I knew he was the one who made me, and he never tried to kill me to stop a prophesy. _

_I lie here in this coffin, feeling my consciousness slip away. Already my flesh is healing; I hope my mind will as well. Poor Maria, I really feel sorry for her. I wish I could make her understand my distress without seeming weak...but then, I think she does already. She is an intelligent woman. I do love her. I do. I will return to her. When I am ready. When my hair has grown back I will return from the dead to live forever._

_Then there is Dracula, always there, lurking in my memories, probably lurking in Chaos as well. I killed him, but with Chaos that doesn't mean anything._

_Are you spying on me father? Can you read my mind? If there is one thing you would come back for it is me, isn't it? Revenge...such a bittersweet word. I will be waiting for you, if you choose to return. I will feel your presence. You won't take her again, she's mine now, and I won't kill her, like Sylvia. I love her. I really do. How strange! Did you love Lisa like that? Did you? You know, father, I am finally beginning to understand. I hope you rest now, like I do. And when the time is ripe, we will meet again, sometime. I will be waiting. Always. Waiting...'_

_*_

THE END


End file.
